


Second Chance City

by Threadbear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Musician!Sirius Black, New York City, Off-screen Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11723028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threadbear/pseuds/Threadbear
Summary: Sirius is the former frontman of a once successful British post-punk band, who now owns one of the hottest bars in Brooklyn, NY. Severus is his former band manager, now a high-flying record exec, with whom he once had an intense and tempestuous relationship. When Severus arrives back in his life after ten years, old memories haunt as they both negotiate their new lives and try to make sense of their old one.





	1. Chapter 1

He arrives in New York very late at night. It has taken him almost 12 hours door to door to get here and he is exhausted and hungry, though rather than check in to his hotel or find something to eat he had Ubered straight to the bar using the coordinates Sirius had text him, impatient to see him again after so long. Sirius had wanted to meet him at the airport but he had insisted no, he didn’t want to be any trouble and besides, meeting at airports was a thing that lovers did. And they were not that. Not any more at least. And if he had anything to say about it, never again. They had talked about this after it was clear to all concerned that he could no longer put off coming, and they had decided sex was off the table. Actually, they had agreed to keep things calm and professional and then Sirius had added _and no sex_ , and Severus had said _what is wrong with you? That goes without saying you reprobate_ , then had added after a seconds thought, _actually that’s a good rule, let’s keep that_. At any rate the other way didn’t work, hadn’t worked every time, even during those heady few months when the band looked like it was going to break the US and they had thought that what was an ill conceived, hasty marriage could fix everything that was broken between them. When things went pear-shaped and the band and Sirius had disappeared from his life Severus had missed him as you would a limb. But, what at first was unbearable, over time became a dull ache, until eventually he just got used to it. Though sometimes, absently, perhaps after he had pulled an all nighter returning on the red-eye to his lonely London apartment from Berlin or some such place having signed some pink faced, wide eyed, electro pop art school darlings (who would eventually come to hate him as much as they now worshipped him as some symbol of ‘having made it’), his mind would slip and reach out to him and all at once he would feel, briefly, like something was missing.

As he steps out of the Uber his impatience has been replaced with something like dread. Quite rightly too, he thinks. He really should have sent his assistant.

The bar is called Dogstar, which strikes him as derivative and egotistical. As long as he had known Sirius Black he has had a narcissistic streak a mile wide. It is minimally signed and located below street level so that he has to walk down a short series of stairs to the door. Inside, it is narrow, low lit, loud with the sound of guitars, and packed with the kind of glistening, sartorially curated youth that would think nothing of paying $200 out of their barista wage for a pair of bespoke hand rendered locally sourced leather suspenders. He hates it on sight. It’s just the kind of place that he would own, Snape thinks, he is not surprised by any of it. He shudders and pushes his way into the room, scanning as he does so. As much as he is au fait with the hipsters and the art school geeks, he despises this world. Black is actually one of the few people who know just how unhip his tastes really run. His idea of an enjoyable evening is listening to Mozart and reading one of the classics. He considers most of the music he signs to be simplistic, shallow and unpractised, though occasionally he will come across something that he believes to be a real art. (He had thought at the time Gryffindor were that, they are what drew him into the business after all, but that was a lifetime ago). Though, he is good at what he does and is respected for it. Perhaps because he is not a salivating, simpering fan he is able to see more clearly than most what will work, and what won’t. And what will shit so much money that he could practically ask his bosses for a blowjob for Christmas and they would happily get on their knees.

Sirius sees him before he does, Snape wonders if he’d been looking out for him all evening like he would have done. Perhaps he had because he’s making his way through the crowd toward him and damn if that million watt smile on his face isn’t just for him. His features smooth and he feels what he always feels when he sees Black again after any length of time. Like when you wake up with a throat like sandpaper, and you seize at the glass of water that’s on your nightstand, that very first sip, that’s what Sirius Black has always been to him. (Though it’s perhaps fitting that, in keeping with the same terrible, overwrought analogy, he always takes too much and eventually he always drowns.)

They embrace and neither of them seem to be in any hurry to let go, it’s too easy to breath in deep, to fill his lungs with him.

Sirius kisses him just below his ear and says up close so Snape can hear over the noise, “You hate it don’t you?” He can hear the grin on his voice.

“It’s loathsome.” He replies, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Black leads him to a small empty booth at the back near a small shallow stage. He motions to an impossibly pretty girl with a sharp, intelligent gaze and bushy brown hair that Severus hates on sight. She disappears down the other end of the room to where there is a bar along the wall and when she appears again it’s with two bottles of IPA that she sets wordlessly in front of them. Sirius and the girl smile warmly at each other for a second before she sweeps back into the crowd. He wonders if they’ve slept together, and how many times.

“Stop that.” Black chides him.

Yes, he reminds himself, business associates don’t care who the other has slept with. And they certainly don’t imagine tripping pretty girls with smooth skin and too easy smiles as they walk past with full drink trays.

“It’s hard not to touch you.” Black says.

His heart gives an involuntary throb.

“Damn you Black, don’t say that shit.”

“Sorry.”

He neither looks nor sounds sorry.

Even so, he smiles at him. “I’m glad I came.” He says.

* * *

 

Sirius had been in equal parts dreading and anticipating Severus’s arrival for several weeks now, ever since it had seemed likely this would happen. As their former manager and someone who dealt with these kinds of contracts for a living he didn’t blame the rest of the band for approaching his ex to negotiate the deal. He knew them best and, as Peter had argued with characteristic vileness, he owed them. Though that Severus had managed to leverage his position as the manager of a moderately successful early naughties Brit band into a force to be reckoned with within the independent music business Sirius thought said more to his sharp instincts and fierce intelligence than any influence on the band’s part. However Severus must have believed so because here he was, flying half way across the world to negotiate a low level deal for a group of aging, mostly forgotten former rock musicians. Though that the deal was with one of the largest TV studios in the world must have somewhat sweetened the deal for him, Sirius reasoned, Severus was nothing if not canny.

He’d been looking out for him all evening which was stupid because he knew what time his plane was due. His staff must have thought him mad, he’d been vague and forgetful all evening, and after dropping his third glass Hermione had in her usual straight up fashion told him they didn’t need him out the front tonight after all. Hadn’t he been saying he needed to get some work done? He agreed though only after he had cleared one of the booths at the back by the stage to sit on with his laptop, not that he would get anything done. He didn’t miss Hermione’s scowl at him using up what was prime real estate at this time on a Friday night either, but he ignored her as he usually did.

When he arrives he sees him immediately, sees him scowl, sees that lip curl. The first thing he thinks is how good he looks, which is a pain, but _damn_ , he would have noticed that guy walking into his bar even if he were a stranger. Though Severus has always turned his head. Used to be a skinny little weird looking thing, hanging around the bars, trying to be noticed. He remembers the first time he saw him, asking James who that ugly kid was staring at them. Severus Snape he tells him. He’d never forget that name. Remembers staring long after James had walked away, so that James had turned around and yelled, “oi Black!” They never stopped staring at each other really, after that. But now he’s not the only one who notices. He can tell that straight away. He’s grown into his looks, he looks powerful, important. Like a man used to getting his way. Same too large, aquiline nose, hair grown out to below his ears, now greying. Other people look, he can see them look. Women. He wonders if he notices. He can’t help but beam at him when he finally spots him and the way he looks at him, it sure doesn’t seem like he notices anyone else at all.

When they finally sit, he gets them a drink, and Severus tells him he’s glad he came and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“You’ll stay?” He asks, ”For a bit?”

“Yeah I’ll stay,” he says, “for a bit. Black, we have to talk about this deal.”

“Sure.” He says noncommittally.

“Black.” He warns darkly, in a baritone that he imagines is employed to great effect on poor young things eager to sell their souls for a fist full of dollars and their face on a t-shirt. It’s not ineffective.

Sirius smiles at him conspiratorially, with dimples. That seems to distract him.

They talk, though not about business, and the next time he notices the bar is emptying. Severus’s face is illuminated by the candles on the table and the dim red bankers lamps and Sirius can almost imagine they are 21 again in some dive bar in Soho. Sirius tells him how he found this place, how he sunk what was left of his money into it on a whim five years ago. It hadn’t seemed like a risk at the time, what else was he going to do? He could play guitar and sing and that’s about it. There wasn’t many job opportunities for an ex con muso, and he’d used up any Black family favours he might have had getting into the states. And though he’d just been looking for a little place where he could play, and maybe make a little money on the side, he got lucky, when he moved in, the neighbourhood was just about to take off and the place ended up being fairly zeitgeisty, spoke to the general hipster movement that was just starting to be a thing. Now he has another bar in the East Village and they’re just about to open another in Hell’s Kitchen.

“Black?” He says when Sirius stops talking.

“Yeah?”

“How’s he doing?”

Sirius smiles. “Great. Really great. You wanna see him?”

“He’s here?”

“Upstairs. Well, he’s supposed to be. We have an apartment up there.”

“No. No, it’s late. Tomorrow. Or…”

“No, tomorrow’s fine. Tomorrow’s great. He’ll be happy to see you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. We have a lot to thank you for, all you did to help get him out here. And from what Harry says that’s not all you’ve done, over the years.”

“I was just acting on Dumbledore’s instructions, he was not a man you said no to, as I’m sure you know. It was all him.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

“My god can you believe it…”

“James and Lily’s kid. I know sometimes I really can’t.”

“Doesn’t he look..?”

“Just like James? Yeah. But he has her –“

“Eyes. Yeah, I know.”

“You still miss her Sev?” There was no love lost between Severus and Sirius’s best friend and Gryffindor lead guitarist, James. But Severus and Lily had grown up together and were as thick as thieves.

“All the time.”

Eventually Severus says, “I should go.”

“Stay? It’s late.” The bar’s empty now save for his staff who are cleaning up around them, pouring knock off beers, and celebrating the general lack of customers.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you Black?”

“I mean on the couch, you egotistical twat.”

He raises one eyebrow mockingly. “Sure you did.”

“Fuck you Snape.”

“Not tonight sweetheart.”

“Ugh I forgot about your terrible, obvious jokes.”

“You mean my quick wit.”

“No I don’t mean your quick wit you moron I mean that you are objectively an awful person.”

“You’ve always been too slow for me.”

He groans, “Weren’t you leaving?”

Snape laughs. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

He picks up his bag and gives him a small, bemused smile before turning to leave.

“Hey.” Sirius calls after him and he turns.

Sirius quirks the corner of his mouth up teasingly, “you’ve still got a nice ass Snape.”

Severus laughs and shakes his head, “idiot.”

Sirius watches him walk away and he feels… pretty damn good. That went better than he could have even hoped. He feels like they could even be friends. He had half thought they really couldn’t be in the same room without eventually fighting or fucking. Usually both. This has really been such a positive healthy experience for them. He’s bloody proud of them actually.

* * *

 

It’s after three when Severus finally gets to the hotel. He’s expected of course, his assistant, who was a minor miracle really, had anticipated everything, even the delayed time of his arrival. He’s not sure what he’s going to do without him for the next week, he really should have bought him. When he gets up to his suite, he doesn’t sleep straight away, throws off his jacket and sinks into the couch, he undoes the top few buttons of his shirt and flings his Longines on to the coffee table with less care than he probably should. The watch was a gift from one of his clients who last year he had helped to sell several millions of albums and cost about how much he makes in a year. And he did ok. He still had a lingering distrust of egregiously expensive things like that; Black and Malfoy, richboys both, had always viewed this tendency of his as a curious oddity.

His over-tired brain tries to process the reality of seeing him again. The last time they had seen each other – God 10 years ago now – Sirius had just been released from prison. Their marriage, their relationship, was long over, had been for years, but Severus had still pined for him madly during the whole two years of his sentence, visiting him as often as Black would allow and shamefully, once more after he told him to stay away during which he had both cried and begged. If Sirius hadn’t rung and told him to meet him at the prison gate he would have been there anyway. He had brought him back to his flat, recently bought, small and basic but it was his, and Sirius had fucked him on his unmade bed. At the time he had thought that he could somehow win him back with a steady job and a walk-up in Camden. Sirius would stay at home and Severus would build him a studio in his spare room and Sirius would greet him at the door at the end of each day, briefcase in hand Severus would kiss him on the mouth and Sirius would say I missed you. For a while he had thought of little else. He remembers Sirius had looked bone tired that day, _I’m gagging for a shower,_ he had said. Severus had said not yet, then stripped and walked wordlessly to his bedroom and his heart was beating fast at the very real risk of rejection, ugly fucker that he was.

Even though after he had ruined everything.

Sirius, his darling, had held him after and kissed the top of his head. “I’ve missed you kid,” he had said softly.

Like a car crash he was powerless to stop Severus had replied, not with, I missed you too, not with, come back to me and I’ll look after you and I’ll protect you from everything, but instead with, “Why didn’t you let me see you? Were you fucking someone else in there?” Even now he finds it hard to say why he would say that. Sirius had slept around toward the end of their marriage, he had known and he had let him, as long as he came back to him at night he had always told himself, but in reality the idea had always obsessed and terrified him, eaten away at him like a burrowing worm. Though why it would occur to him to start objecting then, after everything, three years after they had broken up, he couldn’t say.

Sirius had gone scarily quiet then. He got up and started putting on his clothes.

“You know, Severus, I’m not your fucking boyfriend so you don’t actually get to ask me that shit.” He had said, and Severus had been shocked and confused to see his eyes were glassy with tears. It took him far longer than it should have to figure out.

Sirius left and didn’t come back and a few months later he hears that he’s moved to America. This was a mistake, he said before he left that day.

At the time he had been angry, confused, in so much pain he thought he might die from it, he had genuinely assumed they would eventually be together, he had thought that because he loved him so terribly that it would just be so. A lesson well learned, and one that served him well these past 10 years. No commitments, no emotions and clear expectations. His life, like his relationships – sexual or otherwise – is ordered, predictable, no fuss.

Though against all expectations tonight couldn’t have gone better. Yes Sirius was, as expected, jarringly handsome with his thick dark hair, swept back like a fucking movie star and two day growth along a jawline that you just wanted to cut yourself on, and yes, when they had embraced it had felt a little like home, like a piece of himself clicking back into place. But they had behaved like adults, which was a first for them, there had been very little sniping, no ill feelings and certainly no promise of sex that usually hung in the air between them, thick and choking like smog. When he had walked away he had felt genuinely optimistic he could fit Sirius (because like it or not because of Harry he would have to) into his ordered, drama free life. It was really such a relief.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was only three years old when James and Lily died. Harry’s only living relatives were his uncle and aunt Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and Dumbledore, who was particularly good at arranging things, had decided they would be the ones to take Harry. As solid middle class people who weren’t high most of the time they would have seemed like a good choice. Anyway James and Lily had named Sirius as Harry’s Godfather before shit had really started to get slung, when he was still with Severus and he could have conceivably been a person who could take care of more than a habit. Although Sirius was at least good at that – his specialty was getting his hands on something even when he’d tapped out all his cash, though nothing in this world’s ever free and he’d always paid somehow.

Severus was the one that found them. Sirius knew that he blamed himself, still did. Voldemort or Tom Riddle as he had been known back then had recruited Severus right out of school at age 17. Severus, scrappy little freak that he must have been, was from an abusive and dysfunctional home but possessive of a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He must have been quite a catch for someone like Riddle. There had been years in between that, years in which Severus had got himself a job bussing tables at Hogwarts and turned his back on Riddle and his ‘Death Eaters’ with the help of Hogwarts’ deceptively influential owner Albus Dumbledore. Years in which he had met Sirius, James, Remus and Peter who were just boys then, boys who had liked to play music, chase tail and get wasted, in that order. In which Severus had introduced his friend Lily to those boys and the tall one with the easy confidence and infectious grin had cocked his head, smiled widely and said we’re the Gryffindor boys, and after had said to Sirius hands off Paddy I mean it and Sirius had said yeah alright chill bro, though it hadn’t bothered him, he was already owned by someone else, even back then, although he was yet to admit it. But even with so many years in between Severus took to that guilt like he was born to it, he wore it like skin, without question, and close to the bone.

Sirius didn’t feel guilty. He didn’t feel sad, or devastated or choking with regret, or any of those other things. In fact Sirius didn’t feel anything at all. His little coke hobby, the amphetamines, and the pain pills that were so easily acquired were pretty good for that, but what was better, what was fool proof, one hundred percent success rate, home run guaran-fucking-teed every time, was heroin. And that hole inside him that used to be his best friend, his music, and the man he loved, well that was gone. In fact for a while it was better than any of that. And though he’s never been a big believer in luck, getting himself locked up before he could kill himself has to be up there as far as those things go.

It wasn’t till after that they found out that it was Peter who had been working for Voldemort and the Death Eaters all along, it was Peter who, when things turned sour over a missing suitcase full of blow, would drop James’ name to buy him some time. It was Peter who valued his own ratlike existence over the lives of his friends, over people who had thought him a brother. Whatever he and Severus were or had done they would have both given their lives for James and Lily, he has no doubt about that. He’s willing to bet Severus still would if that were possible, he knows this because he would too.

Though thinking about this served no more purpose than tonguing an ulcer on the side of your mouth, that Severus was back was no reason for such self-pitying regurgitation and Sirius leans in further so he can reach the back of the oven and scrubs harder as if the harder he scrubs the more memories he can exorcise.

“Calm down.” He hears Harry tell him from behind him at the breakfast bar. He pulls his head out of the oven and sees 10.06 written in neon. Severus will be here in an hour.

“I am calm.” He tells him.

Harry raises his eyebrows and goes back to his cereal.

“I am calm.” Sirius repeats. “Perfectly.”

He goes back to scrubbing, raising his voice to ask, “when’s your next exam?” from inside the oven. He knows Severus will ask and he doesn’t want to let on that he’s not very good with that stuff. He tries, he really does, but it’s not his forte as a parent one might say if one was being overly generous. Harry’s a good kid though, and will most likely get into NYU next year like he wants. Probably. If Harry doesn’t get into a good school Sirius knows he’ll have to face both Severus and Remus’s extreme disappointment, and though he’s actually pretty certain it’s not actually really all that important, it might trick them into believing that their faith that he could actually take in and raise a 15 year old boy was not completely misguided. Sirius had a couple of times considered ringing daddy Black and asking for only the second favour he would ever ask of him just to make sure he did. But he knows he won’t, he’d only do that the one time. He doesn’t regret the other because he’d had to get out of England, too many memories, too many ways to kill himself. Jesus, he still remembers the pager numbers of most of his dealers. But knowing that he had to do it still smarts.

“Monday.”

“That soon? Have you studied?”

“Course I’ve studied. Probably could have studied more I suppose…” He says and Sirius thinks god I should probably have been the one to make him do that. “But Hermione’s coming round to do some calc with me and Ron tomorrow.”

Thank god for Hermione. She was a little older than Harry, in her penultimate year at NYU, but she, Harry and his best friend Ron Weasley had struck up a friendship as soon as they had met, and lord knows she’s been a good influence on his schoolwork.

“Tomorrow? You can’t do it today?”

“I was going to hang out with you and Sev today. Unless you’d rather be alone?” He smirks.

“No, why would we? Of course you should.”

The phone rings and he jumps.

“It’s just the phone Sirius.”

“Shut up. Hello?” He says into the receiver.

“It’s just a small thing.” Hermione’s voice says and he thinks, oh here we go. “Actually, it would just be easier if you came down. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Literally a minute?”

“Yes. Literally a minute. Two maybe.”

“I’m coming down but I’m deeply sceptical.” He says, annoyed at being interrupted.

Harry follows him downstairs, probably looking for someone to talk to that won’t jump at the slightest noise or throw a cloth at him and tell him to start cleaning.

Down in the bar Hermione is frowning over a laptop with George Weasley, older brother of Harry’s friend Ron and Sirius’s bartender come event promoter, a role that George, with his playful, gregarious personality, had just kind of fell into when Sirius had got busier and busier with overseeing his soon to be three venues. Now he does virtually all of the bookings and promotion and to Sirius’s great relief the greeting, organising and general running after talent.

“Harry!” George exclaims.

“Hey George!”

“When you gonna start working for us my man?”

“As soon as Sirius let’s me,” Harry tells him.

“Not till your 21.” Sirius reminds him for approximately the 300th time.

“What’s up?” He asks Hermione and George.

“Tonight’s booking’s cancelled with some bullshit stomach flu.” George says.

“That’s nice. So book another. Anything else?”

“Well,” says Hermione, “That’s what we’re trying to do. We were actually hoping...”

“No.” Says Sirius.

“Sirius there’s no one else. It’s a Saturday night. Everyone’s booked.”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Harry and I have plans.”

“Does this have anything to do with mysterious stranger who made you break half my glasses last night?”

“He’s been jumpy all morning too.” Harry offers.

“I’m not jumpy… Severus is an old friend and he is here because we have business – “

“Wait – Severus Snape?” George asks. “Hermione, why didn’t you tell me? You’re _useless_.”

“What? Who?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake Hermione Severus Snape!”

“Saying it louder won’t make me know who you’re talking about!”

“Severus Snape is only one of the biggest A&R guys in the industry.”

“You know I have no idea what you’re talking about George, Sirius I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

“He signs bands Hermione.”

“And he was Gryffindor’s manager. And of course he’s this guy’s ex husband.” George says thumbing at Sirius.

“Oh,” says Hermione. “I had no idea you were, uh, married.”

Sirius shrugs. She probably had no idea he was, uh, gay either, or bi or whatever the fuck he was. Not that she should, there’d been a significant dearth in that department recently, and Hermione hadn’t been with them overlong.

“It was actually a pretty big deal at the time, historic. Ladies man Sirius Black runs away to Belgium to marry a bloke.” George helpfully fills in.

“Fucking Wikipedia.” Sirius says shaking his head. _Ladies man_ where did they get that shit? “Anyway, it definitely didn’t feel like it at the time. Everyone just thought we were being stupid.” As it turned out they were probably right.

Hermione says, “’Old friend here to discuss business.’ You are so full of shit Sirius. Sorry Harry.”

“S’ok. I know he is.” Harry grins at him.

“Shut up all of you. I’m a very busy and important man, so if we’re finished here…?”

“What you haven’t finished scrubbing under the microwave?” Says Harry. Little shit. Wait, should he have done that?

“Not so fast. I just need a yes Sirius.” Hermione says.

“Hermione, it’s just not feasible. It’s too late notice and I really do have plans.”

“So you’re saying a man whose business is music would hate spending an evening listening to one of the hottest acts in Brooklyn?”

Though she was shamelessly flattering him to get her way, as usual she was right. Severus _would_ enjoy it. One of the first things he had said to him had been _Black, do you still play?_ Sirius had said _a bit_ , and had refused to elaborate though he knew that Severus was studying him in that unnerving way he had that made you sure he was reading your thoughts. When Sirius had looked back Severus’s expression said _fine, but we will be talking about this later_. It was actually scary how easily they could read each other.

It had taken him too long to answer and Hermione had taken this as a concession. “Great! We’ll see you here at 7 for sound check, then we’ll have you on at 9.”

“We’ll be here at quarter to nine Hermione.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Oh my God! So you’ll bring him?” George was gushing, “This is so fucking epic. This is _big_ man.”

“No it’s not!” He calls back, already walking away. “Harry you better be up here and ready before 11!”

* * *

 

Upstairs he throws everything he was using for cleaning in a cupboard and doesn’t finish wiping the chemicals from the oven properly. He’ll do it later. It’s more important he showers and dresses carefully, he needs to look fuckable yet unapproachable, he needs to look like he’s too good for him but casually, like he doesn’t care. He’s afraid he won’t be able to manage it – if anything Severus had got better with age. Not that he was exactly an impartial judge, he’d always regarded Severus as a dog regards a chew toy, he always wanted to bite and paw at him, he never could leave him alone, though Severus always been stubbornly impervious to this, as he’d been to anything that could potentially cause him to feel good about himself.

Severus arrives right on time, just as Sirius had finished putting a tie on, then taking it off again, then unbuttoning his top three buttons then doing them up again. He catches Severus checking him out when he answers the door and he grins.

“I was just greeted by that strange girl from last night and a mad man. He seemed to know who I was.” Severus says as Sirius leads him through the hall into the kitchen area.

“Sorry, George is a little weird but basically harmless.”

“Severus!” Harry says appearing from his room.

“Hello Mr Potter.” Severus says formally before Harry nearly bowls him over in a hug. Severus looks shocked but pleased. By all accounts Harry and Severus didn’t have the easiest of relationships while Harry was growing up, and Sirius gets the feeling Severus didn’t quite know what to expect. He was present in Harry’s life throughout his childhood, albeit from a cool distance maybe because he didn’t want to encourage attachment, maybe because his connection to Voldemort put Harry in actual danger, or because seeing Harry was painful or maybe just because Severus had always found relationships with anyone to be mystifying. The thing was Severus also arranged for Harry to attend one of the top schools in London, and though Harry hated it it was probably going to be the reason Harry got in to his college of choice. (Though on that point Sirius could relate, he had endured that school himself, as all Blacks had, and he had hated it so much he had dropped out at 16.) And it was Severus’ testimony that put Tom Riddle away when Harry was 13, which allowed a level of safety he hadn’t had since his parents had died. (The police were never able to pin Peter for anything, and until now he had kept his distance from all three of them, but with this TV deal that none of them had asked for he was back in their lives again, probably needing the money judging by how wheedling and insistent he was being.)

Severus answers Harry’s barrage of questions admirably. Yes Remus and Tonks are good, they say hi, no the baby hasn’t arrived yet, any day now, and Harry was to let them know when he could visit, no he hadn’t bought Draco but he says hi.

“I doubt that.” Harry says, colouring slightly.

“Actually I think he misses you,” Severus says, “but don’t tell him I said that, I would hate to have to find another assistant while I’m this far from home.” Harry had described Draco to Sirius as this annoying posh kid who went to his school and now works for Severus _._ Harry didn’t seem to particularly like him and he wonders vaguely why he would ask after him now.

They go for lunch at a local cafe, where they end up staying too long and drinking far too much coffee. When Sirius Harry goes to the bathroom Severus jumps on him straight away. “How are the boy’s grades?” He asks and it sounds like the beginnings of an interrogation.

“Um, fine? Good. They’re good.” He knew he’d be drilled at some point, and though ‘good’ may have been stretching it a little, ‘good enough’ might cover it.

“It’s important he gets a good education Black. The boy is uncommonly lazy, he takes after his father, you understand why I’d be concerned.”

“Please don’t tell me you say this kind of shit to him.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well no wonder he hated you is all.”

“Stop deflecting. Where’s he going next year, has he made plans?”

Sirius tells him about NYU, and he makes a face. “Well I suppose we should be glad he’s going anywhere at all.” He sighs and Sirius wonders if they can just not tell him if he doesn’t get in anywhere.

“We didn’t go to university Sev and we turned out alright.” He reminds him.

Severus stares at him blankly. “I hope you’re joking.” He says.

“Well if he goes to NYU he can stay at home with me so it just makes sense.”

“Do you really think that’s wise?”

“Yes. I don’t know how I’d deal if he moved out.”

“My lord Black you’re a 40 year old man, I’m sure you’ll cope.”

“That’s what Hermione says. She says that I need to get a love life. That I’m pathetic.”

“Yes I’m sure she does.” He says.

“What does that mean?” Sirius asks.

“Only that you two seem… close.”

“Would you stop?”

“Sorry. Yes. Force of habit.”

“Seriously you’re way off.”

“None of my business.”

“Is that right.”

“…It’s just that she seems like your type that’s all.”

“Oh my God! Wow. Severus, wow. You can’t help yourself can you?”

“What are you two fighting about?” Harry appears suddenly at the table making them both jump about half a foot in the air.

“Nothing!” They reply simultaneously.

Harry widens his eyes at them. “Ok.” He says. “Anyone want ice cream?”

They get ice cream cones in the city and walk through the park. Severus’s jealousy earlier had been scarily familiar and reminded him of why he had to stay well away from that man. Truly he was and always would be the most irritating human he had ever known. He looks over at him and he has ice cream running down his hand and he’s approaching it like it’s a rather off-putting curiosity. God, he probably hasn’t ever eaten a fucking ice cream before knowing him. Look at him, he thinks, he looks ridiculous.

“Give it here.” He says, already having had finished his several minutes ago. He’ll finish his one too. He grabs a napkin and swipes at the corner of his mouth, then shoves a bunch in his hands so he can clean himself up. Severus scowls at him.

“I’m still annoyed at you,” Sirius tells him, out of earshot of Harry, but it’s mostly to stop from licking the strawberry ice cream from Severus’s fingers himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Severus is sitting at a table to the right of the stage, he’s back at Sirius’s damned bar again, where he has resigned himself he may be spending a fair bit of time over the next week, if indeed as he’s starting to suspect he’s not being fairly optimistic with that time frame. He’s not yet been able to pin Sirius down to discuss this bloody deal, nor has he been able to get any work done or even checked one email since he arrived. But right now he doesn’t care about any of that.

In fact he’s starting to think Sirius is right to not give a shit about the TV deal. He doesn’t need it. Severus is getting the goose bumps he always gets when he’s discovered something good, something really good. Something that will _work_. The first thing that had surprised him was how different he sounded, a world away from the incessant guitars and the swaggering energy that had categorised Gryffindor. This was spare, just Black on stage, his raw, almost craggy vocals baked up by folksy guitar picking. There was a sweet melancholy to the music, a truthfulness, but at the same time it was passionate and vigorous.

Severus was transfixed.

He had to have him.

He just had to go about it carefully. He knew from how Sirius had responded to his earlier enquiries that he would possibly not be amenable to his professional advances. Though if he could just get him to agree to a meeting, he knew he would be able to convince him. Luckily, he knew how to be persuasive and he knew how to be careful.

There was no ignoring Sirius was infinitely bankable. From his square, perpetually stubbled jawline, to those bloody t-shirts he still wore that clung to his broad chest and muscled arms and showed off the many tattoos for which he was known (Severus happened to know there were even whole websites dedicated to them on the internet if one were so inclined), Sirius was as unfairly handsome as he had been when they were young. He looked like someone one most definitely does not take home to one’s mother (this in fact was true – the one time Sirius had met his parents was a fucking disaster), it was a look that people in his business spent a lot of time and money to create. Add to that he was still a fairly well remembered figure in the music scene. In professional terms, Sirius was a cakewalk.

Yet he had a hundred pretty faces on his books and he didn’t particularly need or want another, it was the music that he wanted, and he wanted it badly.

The last song Sirius plays is a slow, sweet ballad, and his voice is full of sadness and loss. _I lied to everyone but I meant everything I said to you_ he sings and Severus tries to tell himself he’s a narcissist, that the song could be about any number of people, it could be about noone, it’s just a stupid song, but he squirrels this nugget of an idea away deep within him anyway where it sits glowing and warm. When Sirius looks at him Severus swallows hard, his heart’s beating fast for some ridiculous reason, like he’s 20 again and he’s just seen this beautiful boy onstage and he doesn’t know how to comprehend that fact that his heart is beating so fast, doesn’t even really know if he like boys, still thinks that maybe he could like girls, his best friend’s a girl after all and he likes her, thinks she’s pretty, but this is different. _You should have left me instead_ Sirius sings at the end. When he stops Sirius shakes himself slightly, looking a bit like he has just come out of a trance. He says a soft thankyou to the crowd then puts down his guitar and leaves the stage. It was a risk ending on something so quiet, so melancholy, but the crowd loves it. They rise to their feet and whoop and clap, and Severus hears a guys behind him say _that was incredible_. Sirius is stopped by three or four people who want to talk to him, shake his hand, pat him on the shoulder, and Severus sees him nod and mouth thank you. He finally makes his way over to Severus, and Sirius bites his lip and looks at him questioningly. “Beautiful. That was beautiful,” he tells him, nodding sharply.

“Really?”

Severus looks at him in disbelief, he can’t imagine what Black has to be unsure about. He nods again. “Really.” He says. “That last song…”

“Oh,” Sirius says, “I didn’t plan on… I wasn’t going to… it just sort of... happened.”

“Well keep it, don’t change it.” He says. “It was… masterful. A perfect choice. And you know how it pains me to admit how good you are Black.”

Sirius sniggers at him, “I know.” He says.

The young man with bright red hair who had accosted him yesterday and had seemed to know him by name comes over to their table. “Not bad Boss.” He says.

“Thank you Sir. George, I believe you’ve met Severus.”

“We have indeed! A pleasure to see you again!”

Severus nods at him and then Sirius asks the red head a question and they start talking about something tedious, a delivery of something hasn’t arrived yet. He barely stifles a yawn, it’s been a long day. Though he doesn’t miss when George asks if he can get them anything and Sirius orders for him. Of course, it meant nothing that Sirius remembered what drink he has, they were together for the better part of a decade, it would make perfect sense that he’d remembered. He thinks of Malfoy and how he’s never, not once, known what drink to order him even after all these years, and yet Black did without a seconds thought, having not seen him for 10 years.

“I take it you haven’t changed that much? Still a Hendricks man?” Sirius asks as the boy named George retreats to get their drinks.

“Of course.” He says.

“Good,” Sirius says for some reason, even though he’d always hated gin, and had made fun of him for drinking it.

When their drinks arrive, a beer for Sirius still in the bottle, his gin straight up just as he prefers, he says what he’s really wanted to say since Sirius sat down.

“Black, please tell me no one has signed you yet?”

Sirius laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Well?”

“No Severus I’m a free man.”

“I know this isn’t why I came but if you would just consider taking a meeting. It doesn’t have to be with me, I have good people on my team, really good. Of course I’d rather it was me. I guarantee if you go with me you’d never have to work another day in this bar again. That’s a promise.”

Sirius closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I suppose I did rather wonder what you’d be like when you were working,” he says more to himself than to Severus. “Severus, I am flattered, insulted, but also flattered. Darling,” He says, “I know how good you are, you don’t need to tell me. I know you better than anyone. So I want you to believe me when I say that if it were anyone it would be you. But I’m just not interested. I’m sorry.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

“It means drop it.”

“Drop it?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, it sounded like you just said you were done with music.”

“Sev, I’m asking you to leave it.”

“Not until you explain to me how someone could get up on stage just now and effortlessly command a room with a voice that’s as powerful and genuine as yours then sit here and tell me he’s done.”

“See this is typical of you, you say something that sounds vaguely like a complement but actually you’re just being a pompous asshole. Yeah I guess I am done, done with greedy, grasping record labels, with recording shit that I despise because some suit thinks it’ll sell, with endless bloody touring with nothing to do in between gigs except get high, where half the people there don’t really want to listen to you anyway, they just want a piece of you, a literal piece if they can. I’m definitely done with tarting myself up like a whore for an endless parade of photographers for yet another article that will describe how _handsome_ Sirius Black is, how arrogant, how stupid, how fucking high. You don’t know everything Sev, and you’re not always right.”

“So you’re just going to tend bar for the rest of your life?” Severus blurts, genuinely startled – Sirius used to love tarting himself up like a whore for photographers.

“Okaay. I ignored it the first time, but you’re starting to piss me off now mate. Not interested alright?” He stops and lowers his voice, “I’m not anyone’s whore Severus Snape. Not anymore. You saw how well it turned out last time. You’re so bloody smart, you figure it out.”

“That’s such a fu- that’s such a cop out.” He’s trying really hard to keep his voice at a normal level. “You’re wasting your gifts Sirius!”

“Yeah well I disagree. _I_ like my life Severus. Do you? You can’t seriously like being a hand puppet for those soulless assholes?”

Severus gets up. “At least I haven’t given up. Can’t you see that every moment you spend doing something else you’re selling yourself short? Everything you worked for? Everything you wanted – everything _we_ wanted.” He grabs his coat. “You can still have that Black.”

He walks away swiftly; he has to get out before he said something worse.

He gets out the door and about three feet down the road before he hears Sirius call after him.

“Snape!”

Severus turns around.

“What the fuck was that? I don’t see you in 10 years then you show up and try to tell me how to live my life?”

“Yeah well who’s fault was that?” He snarls with far more vitriol than he had intended. Oh God, shut up shut up shut up, what in the buggering hell was he doing?

“Oh I see. And you’re so fucking perfect right? You’ve never done _anything_ wrong!” They’re about three inches from each other’s face.

“I would never have left you! Never!” He hadn’t known he was going to say that.

Sirius grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him right up to his face and he gasps. They’re both breathing heavily and Severus knows that all the hurt, all the hate that he’s ever felt for him is showing in his face.

“Go on hit me then.” He chokes out.

Sirius inhales sharply, he pushes him back and releases his hold on him.

“I would never fucking hit you.” He says.

I wish you would, Severus thinks, irrationally. He looks back at Black who has his head in his hands, and decides he can’t stick around to make this worse. He turns back and walks away as quickly as he can, not once looking back.

When he gets around the corner he finds a cab, and once in it he finally collapses, breathing heavily. What did you just do?! He thinks. Everything was going so well.

He laughs bitterly remembering his earlier thoughts. Yeah real smooth Severus. So _persuasive_ , so _careful_. You fucking fraud.

You make me sick, he tells himself.

* * *

 

“Fuck!” Sirius cries as he sees Severus disappear around the corner.

It’s only then does he realise that there are people watching from the street, as well as inside the bar looking up through the large windows that start at about shoulder height and give a fair enough street view if you stand close enough. Some of them have their phones out.

Shit.

Inside, he pretends like no one is staring, and ignores a pointed look from Hermione and a comment from George ( _dude, that was so punk rock!_ ) and makes his way upstairs thankful he’d cleared his schedule so he doesn’t have to be there.

He calls out for Harry, and when he doesn’t answer he’s not sure if he’s grateful or disappointed.

He goes to the fridge for a beer then decides against it. He’s not that person any more. Though he did behave like it just then. But damn it all so did he. Worse. Bastard. Why did he think things could be different? He hates him, he loathes him, he never wants to see that ugly, sneering, self-important face ever again. He _has_ changed goddamn it, Severus is the one who’s still exactly the same.

_You wanted to kiss him though didn’t you? Seems pretty much exactly the same to me._

_But it’s the only way to shut him up._

Oh fuck. He’s fucked isn’t he? Then again, maybe Severus will go home tonight and he’ll never have to see him again.

It had always been like this. It’s not like they had been friends. From the start they had worn each other’s nerves raw. From that first meeting, Sirius had wanted to get in his face, to make him hurt. Creep, he had called him, freak. _Sirius likes pulling Snape’s pigtails_ , James had said once. _What the fuck does that mean?_ He’d snarled back at him.

On Severus’s part, he had never backed down. You’re pathetic, he’d tell him, Black you make me sick. He’d mock and smirk until Sirius would snap and start yelling, and Snape would yell back but that damn smirk would never leave his face.

When they had started getting some real interest and the rest of the band had announced they wanted to ask Severus to manage them Sirius had said _Please tell me you’re kidding_ and kicked up enough fuss to show them he was serious but not enough so they would actually change their mind.

Things only got worse after that, what with all the time they were now spending together, and their open hostility became such a problem that the others at one point tried to bar them from being in the same room, scheduling two meetings to discuss the same thing with each of them. Not that they could stop them, they were like magnets, homing missiles. Seek and destroy.

When they finally started sleeping together no one had seemed particularly surprised. (In fact, when Remus had walked in on Sirius bending Severus over a sofa in their dressing room one night he had cried Oh thank Christ! Maybe now we can get some fucking peace!)

His phone beeps and he jerks. It’s a text from Harry telling him he’s staying with Ron. For a second he considers telling him he can’t, just so he won’t have to face the rest of the night alone with his thoughts.

 _Ok, be good._ He texts back instead. Please don’t act like I would have at your age is what he means. He knows he’ll be fine though. He doesn’t have to worry about Harry in that way, far too much of his mum in him.

 _I know you will_ he adds.

He takes a shower, then bangs about on the Gibson for a bit but he can’t get Severus out of his head.

 _I would never have left you!_ He had looked so young then, so like that clever, wounded boy of 21, the one he had fallen in love with.

 _Never!_  

* * *

 

It’s about 2am when Severus calls him, and he’s in bed. He hadn’t been sleeping. He thumbs over the answer key, and holds the phone to his ear mutely, too tired to think of what to say.

Severus’s voice comes over the line gravelly and thick. “Were you asleep?”

“No.”

“Oh. … I… couldn’t sleep.”

“Good.”

“Black I – “

Sirius says nothing, he’s not going to let him off the hook, why should he?

“… Black damn it all, I should at least get some points for calling.”

“You are darling.”

He sighs. “Ok, I behaved tediously. I often do. Do we need to dissect it?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I see.”

“Severus, I don’t just tend bar –“

“--I know, I know --”

“Like I literally own like three of the hottest bars in New York you arrogant assh-”

“Yes, I know, that was a stupid thing to sa--”

“--Read a fucking Sunday supplement you wanker.”

“Black you know I never read that rubbish.” Severus says, deadpan, and they both giggle.

“Can we just forget about 80 percent of what I said today?” Snape says finally.

“Only 80?”

“Yes. Black I meant everything I said about Potter, he needs to—“

“Yes yes I heard you then!”

“Yes of course. …You’re doing amazing Black, I meant to tell you. You know I still think you’re amazing don’t you?” He adds softly.

Sirius closes his eyes and breathes in through his nose. He’s suddenly reminded of their wedding day, 15 years ago, they had got dressed in separate rooms and when he had come out Severus had looked at him without speaking. Well? He had asked. You’re amazing, Severus had said in his ear, I want to marry you desperately.

“I know kid.” He says, though he hadn’t. “I’m sorry I called you a hand puppet.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

“I don’t think that though. I’m so fucking proud of you kid. You still don’t take anyone’s shit but mine right?”

“Nope.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re better than any of them.”

“We’re doing alright aren’t we?” Severus says after beat, “only one teeny fight.”

“We’re doing great! Only, say, 3 dozen people saw, and I’m sure not _all_ of them were recording it.”

“Not _all_ surely.”

Sirius laughs and he hears Sev join him.

“So what were you doing when I rang?” Severus asks after a moment.

“Are you asking if I was wanking?”

“No. Why would you automatically assume that? Were you?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I was thinking about it.”

Sirius barely catches the small intake of breath.

“I should have known you only rang to catch me masturbating you creep.”

“You thought I actually wanted to talk to you?”

“Your voice has gotten so deep. Did you know?”

“Are you wearing underwear?”

“No.” Sirius tells him pushing down his boxer briefs with his free hand then toeing them off. “I’m naked.”

“Slut.”

“I’m your slut. What are you going to do with me?”

“I’m going to make you fucking scream.”

“Shit.” Sirius says.

“Touch yourself.”

“Ok.” He doesn’t tell him he already has been.

“God, this isn’t good is it?” Severus says. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“It’s ok, this isn’t sex.”

“It isn’t?”

“We agreed no sex, and this isn’t sex. This is just... a conversation. This is fine.”

“Agreed.”

“Okay. How hard are you?”

“Obscenely.”

“Will you put a finger in yourself for me?”

“Maybe. In a bit.”

“Really?”

“Yes you fucking degenerate. When have I ever said no to you?”

“Are you touching your dick?”

“No I’m drinking a cup of tea. Yes Black I’m touching my dick.”

“Are you using lube?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

“Oh. Go on, get yourself nice and wet for me then.”

Sirius scrabbles around in his drawer then pops the lid of the tube he finds there.

“Is Harry there?”

“Noo.” He pants, pushing into his fist and relishing the cool slick of the gel.

“Okay. I want to hear you.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m fucking my fist and I’m imagining it’s your asshole.”

Severus moans.

“Have you done it?”

Severus doesn’t reply for a moment.

“Uh huh.”

“Uh. I bet it feels good. I wish it was my tongue.”

There’s a rustling noise. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“I propped the phone up on my shoulder so I can use my other hand to masturbate.”

“Fuck I love how practical you are.”

“ _Uh_ – well you asked.”

He can tell by his voice that he’s coming apart and it makes Sirius thrust harder in to his fist. The thought of Severus spread out, pants pushed down, normally starched shirt rumpled and gaping, with one hand on his hard and glistening cock and the other reaching around to finger himself is making him give out a throaty moan with every push.

“ _Black_. I’ve got two in now. I—I’m being quite rough with myself.”

“Mmm. Fuck yes. That’s so fucking hot.”

“Black I’m –“

“That’s it baby.”

 _“Oh God,”_ Severus says and then Sirius can hear him moan his release. The desperate keening sound he makes pushes Sirius over the edge and he cries out and pulses warm slick onto his stomach and over his hand.

“Well.” He pants, out of breath. “Good talk.”

“Yes. It felt like we really worked through some things.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Yes. And perhaps this is best left…?“

“Oh no. We won’t be talking about this.”

“Great.”

“Night Sirius.”

“Night kid.”

He throws the phone to the side, wipes himself with the sheet and collapses, he decides not to think about why that had just happened, he doesn’t really need to. It’s probably just to do with location more than anything, once they go back to being hundred of miles apart it will be fine. Though now that he’s orgasmed he has to admit that it did seem rather a lot like sex after all.


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s rather a lot of money Black. And you really would have to do nothing.”

The next afternoon Snape is sitting with Sirius at his breakfast bar in Sirius’s loft, Sirius was eating ice cream directly out of a tub and Severus was trying to convince him to just sign this blasted contract already. He’d woken up in a very good mood, and though he was clear on why that was he was refusing to think directly on it. In that way it was like it had never happened. Anyway the good mood had prompted him to attempt a discussion with Black who for reasons best not analysed agreed to talk with very little prodding.

“Do you think I care about the money?”

“No.” He hesitates to say what occurs to him next but decides it’s too relevant to leave unsaid. “But Remus might. New baby on the way, perhaps he could use it. Unless I’m way off about how much university lecturers are paid.”

Sirius looks at him and purses his lips. “Alright.” He says eventually. “I’ll listen to you. But that’s it. No promises. Give me --” He swirls his spoon in the air, “the gist.”

“Well the show’s apparently some sort of existential mystery set in the final few months of life on earth, human kind on the brink of apocalypse that sort of thing. It sounds smart, not at all stupid, and there are some big names on board, so you certainly wouldn’t be attaching your self to anything of poor quality. They want to use _I’ll Save You_ as the theme for the opening sequence. You’re actually lucky that track’s from _Lion_ , and not one of your earlier albums, we’d set up that deal with Ministry Records by then which if you recall left your ownership rights in tact. You three have the right of refusal on this, and basically you all have to agree or it’s a no go.” He spreads his hands out. “It’s a big deal Sirius, the show’s expected to be huge. Not that you can ever predict these things, but if it’s a hit it could potentially mean a lot of exposure. Exposure drives interest. Interest could mean money. You can use money to buy hair gel and t-shirts in a size too small.”

“You’re such a wanker. Anyway, you mean over exposure.”

“That’s something we could manage.”

“Ugh why _I’ll Save You_? It’s far from our best.”

“Why not? It’s catchy, and it goes with the theme. Besides, would you rather they ruin a better one?”

“Ha! Actually that’s a good point. If they wanted _Laundromat, 9.15_ I’d be saying no straight up.”

“If they wanted that one, I’d let you.” Severus agrees. _Laundromat_ was the song Sirius had written about the first time Sirius had kissed him, and in Severus’s opinion it was flawless. He was fiercely possessive of that song, it was his. They smile at each other and Severus knows they’re both thinking of that time. Severus recalls wanting to speak to Sirius about God knows what one evening – a pretext no doubt – and Sirius had said fine I’m about to do washing you can speak to me while I’m doing that. It was there in that empty laundromat beneath flickering fluorescent lights, loading wet clothes into a dryer, and bickering about a t-shirt that he had insisted Sirius had stolen, that they had finally stopped pretending. Oh bugger it, Sirius had said, dropping the t-shirt and pushing Severus hard up against the dryers with his whole body. Sirius had grabbed the sides of his head and they had made out frantically, desperately until they had heard the clang and rattle of the door, pulling apart and giggling as a stocky middle-aged woman scowled and pointedly ignored them. Sirius had finished loading the drier and they had sat and watched the clothes spin in silence, grinning at one another and stealing quick bruising kisses, Sirius’ fingers tracing patterns over his palm.

“Jesus.” Sirius says, shaking his head. “You know, that was your t-shirt, did I ever tell you? I took it from your bag on that Scotland tour. I used to sleep in it.”

“Bastard. I liked that t-shirt. Never mind, you probably stretched it up anyway.”

“I did.” He admits. “It was so small. You had that tight little body.”

“Hell,” Severus says. “Enough of this. Or we’ll never get anything done.”

“Alright. Look you’re not wrong, it sounds like a reasonable deal for absolutely no effort. If it were just that I would probably say yes now just to get you to shut up. But Sev, I can’t get us mixed up with Pettigrew, Harry and I, not now.”

“Sirius, listen to me, I wouldn’t recommend this if I thought it posed any risk to you or Harry. Let me deal with Pettigrew. You won’t be involved at any point. That’s a promise. Harry wouldn’t even have to know.” He doesn’t tell him he thinks it might be safer to let this deal run, hope that it keeps Pettigrew happy enough so that he moves on, leaves them alone, because he doesn’t want Sirius knowing how worrying he finds this. He can’t know that it’s kept him up nights, the idea that Peter had spoken to Sirius, had called his house, had been that close to Harry.

“Sev, Lily and James, they were your friends too. You don’t have to take this on yourself.”

“You have to let me do it my way Black. I insist on it. Let me do this for you both. Please.”

Sirius smiles at him. “I bet most people think you’re an asshole don’t they?”

“They wouldn’t be wrong.” He admits. He doesn’t think you can be good if you’re always scrabbling to make up for all the terrible things you’ve done. He doesn’t think that counts.

“Perhaps.” Says Sirius.

“Look, I can be here for a few more days. You don’t have to decide yet. Think it over and we can discuss it again in a day or two. Then if you decide yes, I can start making arrangements. If it’s no, no harm no foul, I’ll go home and Pettigrew and the label can just deal with it.” The lie comes out smoothly, though he had expected it to catch in his throat.

“Sev?”

“Hmm?”

“I have no memory of the details of that Ministry deal, you know that right?”

He sighs. “Yeah I guess I did.” That was exactly why they had asked him to manage them in the first place. All four of them were so maddeningly terrible at that kind of thing that Severus suspected he had wasted his breath every time he tried to get them to take even a passing interest in their own business affairs. _Just make a decision and tell us what you decide Sev_. He had often thought about having that embroidered and mounted in the glorified cupboard he had convinced Dumbledore to let him use, after he had cleared it of broken tables, old drinks trays and other detritus, that served as his office.

“I actually almost zoned out there for a bit when you were explaining it before.”

“I know honey.”

Severus’s phone rings, he grimaces when he sees who it is, he’s ignored two calls from him earlier, he’ll have to take it. “Sorry.” He says, gesturing.

“Lucius, what is it.” He answers keeping his voice low and walking a few steps away.

“What kind of a greeting is that?” Comes the familiar drawl.

“I’m actually busy so…”

“Busy doing what? Where are you?”

“I’m in New York, as you well know.”

“Still? How tedious.”

Snape inhales and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Will you be home soon? I need you here.”

Severus shakes his head. Yes I’m sure you do, he stops himself from saying. Lucius Malfoy was president of their label, Slytherin, a small independent subsidiary of a much larger, very well known major label. Small but deadly, as they liked to say around the office. Severus was head of A&R, and it was usually after he’d been away about this time that everyone started acting like clingy children. Though work wasn’t why Lucius was calling, Severus would bet. Lucius was married and inherently incapable of getting emotionally involved so their arrangement had always suited him just fine, though he did become tediously needy when he couldn’t have Severus at his beck and call.

“You know I can’t cope without you darling. _You know who_ are being frightful again and you know they only listen to you.”

This wasn’t strictly true. The Centaurs did what ever they wanted, and rarely listened to anyone. They were one of their biggest clients but also one of their biggest headaches.

“Well I’m here for a few more days. At least.” He sighs, Lucius _could_ cope without getting his dick sucked but professionally, as everyone in the office knew, he relied on Severus. “Have Draco call me. Whatever they’re doing, my team will sort it.”

Draco was Lucius’s son and Severus had taken him on as his assistant six months ago as a favour to Lucius, though under duress. Surprisingly, Draco had turned out to be the best assistant he’d ever had, he was smart, he knew how to get things done, and he took no shit. Severus knew the staff thought he favoured Draco because he was Lucius’ son, but if he did it was only because Draco reminded him so much of himself at his age, not to mention the poor kid had to put up with having Lucius as a father.

“Darling, have you been sleeping? Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and go to that spa you like?” Severus was performing damage control now. If Lucius started getting too involved in his team’s work he would come back to a mutiny. “I’ll have Draco organise it.”

“I do have my own assistant you know. But yes I suppose you’re right, I think I will. What would I do without you darling?”

“I hate to think.” Severus replies. He rings off and looks over at Black, who’s giving his best impression of someone who wasn’t listening. Severus is reminded of a sulking puppy. He gives him an apologetic look.

“That sounded… complicated.” Sirius says.

“Oh that was just… work.” He replies, mentally replaying his side of the conversation.

“None of my business.” Sirius says in a way that indicates he doesn’t believe him, shovelling a large spoon of mostly melted ice cream into his mouth. Severus wrinkles his nose in a flicker of annoyance. Was that jealousy he detected? Surely not after the big deal Sirius had made yesterday over his momentary carelessness in that regard. Interesting. Very interesting. Severus decides it’s in his very best interest to wrap this up as quickly as he can and return home to London where his biggest problem is managing a few badly behaved child rock stars and an emotionally stunted boss. 

* * *

 

“Remus I don’t understand why anyone would give a shit. I didn’t think anyone would even remember who I was.” Remus’ face on his laptop screen looks tired yet far too amused for Sirius’s liking.

“Sirius we’re British, we very rarely move on.”

Remus had just what could only be described as gleefully informed him that he and Snape were in that day’s edition of the Daily Mail in the celebrity gossip pages. He had hastily looked it up online and yes, there they were by the side of the road out the front of his bar screaming in each other’s faces. Some hack with access to a search engine had dug up an old photo of them from about 15 years ago in an almost identical pose, expressions indistinguishable from the recent one, and had placed the two photos side by side. _Spot the difference!_ The headline had read. ‘Are Sev and Siri back together?’ Read the by-line, ‘Our favourite wild couple from the naughties are at it again. Dubbed their generation’s answer to Sid and Nancy this former unconventional power couple remind us that we may all get older but none of us really ever change.’

“Besides, you two used to make very good copy as I recall.”

“Not helping.”

Remus laughs, “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. Oh, fuck it, it’s hardly the front page, I suppose no one will even really notice.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Sirius grimaces at him.

“What were you two fighting about anyway? Oh Christ, Sirius you’ve not slept with him already have you? He’s only been there, what,” He looks theatrically at his watch, “all of two minutes.”

“No!” Sirius says. “Not technically.”

“Sirius? What does ‘not technically’ mean? He asks knowing he shouldn’t.”

“There was some… phone stuff. A- a couple of nights ago. But it didn’t count.” He adds hastily. “We agreed. And it’s not going to happen again.” Now saying it out loud he realises how dumb it sounds.

“Uhuh. Now would you like to keep fooling yourself or would you like me to tell you the truth.”

“Ugh. Truth then.” Sirius answers.

“Knowing you two whatever terrible shit you got up to the other night was most definitely not nothing. In fact, phone sex often requires higher levels of intimacy if anything because of it’s very nature-”

“Alright alright shut up, I get the point.” And then, “Remus what should I do?”

“Siri remember when we always used to tell you to ignore Severus? Remember? We used to say it all the time. If you ignore like the worst 50% of what Snape says you have basically an okay guy. We joked all the time about making that into a t-shirt for him to warn others. Remember the first time we said that, Severus told us that perhaps he should make us t-shirts with if you ignore 50% of what we play we’re basically okay musicians written on it to warn our crowds?”

Sirius smiles, “Yeah.”

“Don’t let him wind you up so much. I’m not going to tell you not to sleep with him because you’ll just ignore me anyway but at the very least try not to kill each other, he’ll be gone in a few days and things will just go back to normal. In the meantime, I know you and Harry were looking forward to having him here, make the most of it, the three of you should have some fun – you do remember how don’t you? God knows Severus doesn’t. You live in New York, there must be plenty for you to do. Also ‘Dora thinks you should date from time to time. She says you’re becoming a hermit.”

“I date.”

“Grindr doesn’t count Sirius.”

“How do you know so much about my life?”

“You tell me. Oh that you didn’t.”

“Whatever. I have to go.”

“Yes, as must I. Bye Siri.”

“Oh and Rem? Congratulations my love. It’s honestly the best news I’ve had in like at least a decade. I love you, I would die for all three of you. You know that’s true. Call me soon.”

“I will Sirius, we love you too.”

Sirius ends the call, he knows he’s a selfish prick but luckily Remus has to love him anyway. Those are the rules.

A hermit though. That was rude. If he hasn’t dated much in the past couple of years, well that’s because he has Harry to think of now. Adding someone to their equation would only ruin the special thing they have. And he has had his share of relationships in the past 10 years or so since he’s been here. Well a couple.

There had been Meg, an actress with a killer body who had been too smart for him and funny in an eviscerating kind of way. He had liked her, of course he had, but if he was being truthful he had liked the jealous stares men would shoot him when he was with her better. In the end she had left him for a theatre director, which he had called cliché in a bored, disinterested drawl, he supposed further cementing her decision to leave him. After Meg there’d been Danny, a closeted corporate lawyer, about 10 years his senior with whom he had been, he supposed, more on than off with for the better part of three years. Danny had been a man used to getting his own way and Sirius had systematically broken him down and toyed with him like his own personal plaything. He had liked to see the arrogant and cock sure Danny beg for him. They had ended too when Danny had decided he was ready to come out and had wanted to introduce Sirius to his family and co-workers. Sirius’s strong aversion to the idea had been obvious and their relationship hadn’t survived it. Danny had called him the most selfish man he had ever met, which was Sirius supposed, a fair call.

He wonders again who ‘Lucius’ was and if Severus was in love with the man. They were clearly sleeping together, Sirius could tell by how he spoke to him. Not unlike how he used to talk to Sirius. He swallows down a red hot stab of jealousy. _Ridiculous,_ he thinks, _you’re acting like a fool_. Remus is probably right he needs to wait it out, get on with his life, start dating again. Yes, that’s it, he’s probably just sex starved, in need of human affection or something like that. As soon as Severus was gone he would have to see about that. 

* * *

 

Remus shuts the lid of the laptop and as he does he hears Teddy crying on queue from upstairs. He jumps up to grab him before Nymphadora, exhausted and sleeping in their bed, has the chance to. Upstairs in the nursery he attempts to cradle Teddy back to sleep, still unsure if this is the way he’s supposed to do it or if, as he suspects, he’s just making it worse. He supposes he’ll get better at this. It was only five days ago that they had brought Teddy home from the hospital. It was his first proper conversation with Sirius since then, excluding the five minute chat they had had just after Teddy was born. Sirius had of course spent the entire conversation talking about himself, which Remus hadn’t really minded -- it was nice to not talk about feeding and poop for a bit -- though no one really minded that about Sirius. It was just part of him, like his swagger and his charming lopsided grin. Also Sirius, the human equivalent of a trainwreck, needed someone to bounce his stupid ideas off of, and help him to screw things up slightly less. Jamie used to be better at it than he was. Remus knew that it looked like James was just as bad as Sirius, but he had always known when to tell Sirius to pull back, and Siri would listen to him. The only other person Sirius had ever listened to was Snape. He wonders if those two could possibly make it work again, he’d always wondered if they weren’t strangely good for each other, though they had always made a good impression of looking like they weren’t. Ugh on second thought, if things were heading that way perhaps he should warn Harry or that clever manager of his, Hermione. Things were about to get messy. Remus smiles, this was strangely nice, familiar, almost like the old days. Strange that thought no longer filled him with desperate sadness as it once would have, more now a hollow ache, but in a good way, like something he wouldn’t want to get rid of. They’re all pretty lucky to have each other, him, Sirius, Severus, Dora and Harry. And now his little Teddy. Remus wonders what he could possibly have done to get this fucking lucky actually. 

* * *

 

Severus has no way to prove it but he’s sure Lupin is involved somehow. Since their chat on Sunday Sirius has seemed determined to fill his time here with activities. He’d been repeating the phrase, _we need to have some fun_ , and in Severus’s opinion using the words ‘trip advisor’ far more liberally than one ever should. Since Monday they had been to museums, gallery’s, eateries, _play’s_ for godsakes, and markets, too many markets. Today was Thursday. Severus hadn’t been able to have moment’s peace. Potter, who’d had exams all week, had been unable to attend even a single outing. Severus was sure the wide smile and thumbs up he had given them this morning as they left had been sarcastic. He filed it away and resolved to torture him for it at a later date. It wasn’t Black’s usual style and it sure as hell wasn’t his. This had Lupin’s name all over it.

He’s finally had enough though. After a morning spent, Severus shudders even as he relives it, wandering through some sort of garden (the only thing that could be said for the whole experience was that they hadn’t had to travel far) Sirius had informed him over lunch that this afternoon they would be taking a ferry to the Statue of Liberty. That was it. This had to be stopped.

He waits until Sirius gets up to pay for their lunch and calls Lupin. He doesn’t care what time it is in London right now nor whether he will wake up the new baby.

“Lupin.” He growls when the man answers the phone.

“Severus?” He says sounding confused.

“What did you do?”

“What? What did I – what?”

“What did you tell Black, and why has he turned into a walking Lonely Planet guide?”

“Huh? Oh. Oohh.”

“Yes. I’ve been to that many art exhibitions and plays and markets, I feel like the bloody renaissance. Why am I doing these things Lupin?”

“Well I may have suggested you guys should you know… have some fun.”

“We went to a Broadway play Lupin. Broadway.”

“Oh God.”

“Don’t you dare laugh.”

“I’m s-sorry.” He sounds very much like he is laughing.

“Fix it. Fix it or I will make it my personal mission to destroy you. Fix it or so help me I will make your life so difficult that you will come to me and beg for the sweet release of death.”

“Yes, gotcha.”

“If I so much as glimpse, Lupin, the Lady of Liberty’s bloody pinky finger the entire time I’m here, I’m coming for you.”

“Fix it.” He repeats as Sirius swaggers back outside and sits, crossing his legs and pulling his dark glasses down. Severus takes his phone and shakes it forcefully in Sirius’ face.

“Take it.” He says punctuating his words with another shake.

Sirius scowls at him and takes the phone.

“Remus? …Huh?... Oh we’ve just been making the most of this beautiful cit… Yeah I guess we’ve been busy?... No I don’t think-…. Huh? …Renaissance? What’s that got-... Oh… Ok. …Yeah. …Yeah. …I understand. …Yes I said ok! …Yes bye. …Bye Remus, bye.”

Sirius hands him back his phone and looks at him sheepishly. “He said I had to stop.”

“So no Statue of Liberty?”

“No.”

“No more markets? No more plays? No more award winning organic delicatessens?”

“No. No more of those.”

“Okay.” He says carefully, inspecting Sirius closely to make sure he really fully understood.

“Well what do you want to do then?” Sirius asks him huffily.

Severus stands. If the bloody man won’t listen to him, he’ll bleeding well just have to show him. He grabs Sirius’s hand and pulls him to his feet. “Come.” He says, and turns on his heels not bothering to check if Sirius is following. Severus marches the two blocks back to the bar with Sirius at his heels complaining the whole way.

“What the hell Severus?” Sirius says as he follows Severus up the stairs to his apartment. “You know this mysterious thing you’ve got going on isn’t cool it’s just annoying. Has anyone told you that yet?” He ignores him, though he could say yes, you have, many times.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Sirius says as he lets them inside.

“Coffee.” He says. “First coffee.” He goes to the kitchen. He’d seen Sirius and Harry do it every morning this week, how hard could it be? He prefers tea but Sirius had always liked coffee, the darker and more disgusting the better. Also he’s not even sure the bagged sawdust they have here on the rare occasion one can procure such a delicacy can even qualify as tea. He manages to grind the coffee passably, he gets that part, he’s not quite sure about the rest though, could something go here? Perhaps he hadn’t really been watching all that closely, honestly he tries his best to ignore both of them that early in the morning.

He checks over his shoulder and Sirius is just staring at him uselessly.

“Can you just –“ Severus starts.

“Yes, move over, let me – just let go of – well look that doesn’t even go there –“

“You do it.” He tells him.

“I am, look. The coffee goes in this bit here, see? Can you get me the water jug from the fridge?”

“This?”

“Yes – thanks – very good sweetpea – the water goes in this hole here. Then we close this and switch it on here. Easy.”

“Easy.”

“Yes.”

“I find it hard to believe that Americans can regularly navigate such a sophisticated process but baulk at simply steeping tea for the required amount of time.”

“Well yes that is a mystery I have never been able to solve.”

“Hand.”

“Huh?”

“Give me your hand.”

“Oh.” Sirius does and it’s warm. Though why that should be remarkable he has no idea. “Come.” He says again.

He leads Sirius to the couch and tells him to sit, then he walks over to a collection of guitars Sirius keeps by a desk on the opposite side of the room with a computer and a range of audio equipment. He scans them over and then picks out an old beat up PRS electric, then brings it to Sirius. It only occurs to him after he’s handed it over that he’s picked out the same type of guitar that Sirius used to keep at the flat he had shared with Lily, the one he used to pick at sitting on Severus’s bed, shirtless, hair mussed and chain smoking cigarettes, though Severus had repeatedly told him not to, tapping his cigarette ash out the window. Though, of course it wouldn’t be the _exact_ same one.

“There.” He says. “We are going to drink that coffee and I am going to sit over there and read my newspaper and then see about getting some work done. You are going to sit there, or over there I don’t care, and play me something, then after I will tell you what I think. Then when Harry gets home from his exam you two will eat more of that disgusting ice cream you’re so fond of and we’ll all drink more coffee and we’ll talk about life, or about nothing in particular, or more likely you two will prattle on inanely while I ignore you. Ok?”

“Ok.” Sirius says. “That sounds nice.” And Severus walks back over to the breakfast bar and takes out his laptop and a newspaper from his briefcase. He opens his paper and Sirius plugs in the guitar and plays with the settings on the amp until the coffee machine stops making its hissing sound, at which point he gets up and on his way to the kitchen he comes up behind Severus and plants a kiss on the top of his head then pours coffees with a little half smile on his face. Severus waits until Sirius sits back down before he allows himself a quick satisfied smile.

They spend the afternoon this way, he manages to answer some emails, and speak to Draco who tells him he’s worrying unnecessarily and that he has it all under control, which he doubts, overconfident little shit that Draco is, but he decides to believe him anyway. During the afternoon he gets a call from Firenze from The Centaurs and he does damage control, promising he will be there in the studio personally next week, _probably_ , he thinks to himself. Bloody Sirius, anyone else and he would have left with a signature days ago. (Though he has to admit this has been… nice. Even during the past hellish three days of scheduled activities he’d been hesitant to complain because, well, it had felt like… on second thought best not analyse that too closely.) After the conversation with Firenze he calls Theo who he’d previously charged with taking care of the Centaur problem. Why the fuck did I just take that call? He asks him. He interrupts halfway though his answer and says if that happens again I’m giving Karen your fucking job and hangs up. He looks at Black who’s pouring more coffee. Do you have anything stronger than that? He asks.

Black goes into one of the lower cupboards and Severus gets a view of his ass that he really didn’t need then he pulls out a bottle of something dark and aged.

Sirius takes down one glass and Severus is reminded of the fact that he’s hasn’t seen Sirius drink anything stronger than beer the whole time he’s been here. Sirius comes round to join him on the other side of the island, he hands him his drink and their fingers touch. “Everyone in the office reads the fucking Mail apparently.” Severus says, taking a sip. Sirius still hasn’t moved out of his personal space.

Sirius shakes his head. “Ugh, every second person that’s come in to the bar’s seen it too. Fucking internet.”

Severus laughs. “Oh yes, because you must be hating all that attention.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh we’re being coy are we? How many people have told you how hot you looked?”

Sirius smiles at him cheekily, “One or two.” There’s the man I know Severus thinks. Sirius loved people looking at him, one of his many questionable traits. “What about you?” Sirius adds.

“What about me?”

“Do _you_ still think I’m hot?” He asks and Severus almost chokes on his whiskey.

He pauses before he answers; “I’m not blind Sirius.” And then to disguise how flustered he’s made him he says, “I think you sound hot too. Let me make an album with you. You know it would sound incredible.” He had told himself to drop it but he knew he wouldn’t. This was what he did, he couldn’t just turn it off.

“No.”

“Fine.” He says touchily. “Make a decision on the HBO deal so I can fuck off.”

“Whatever, let’s just do it then.” Sirius says. “I don’t give a fuck. It’s all bullshit anyway.”

“Great. I have the papers right here.”

“Sev, I’ve been thinking about the other night.”

“No you haven’t. You’re just saying that to distract me.”

“What, so you haven’t?” He moves closer to him and his thigh brushes Severus’s knee.

He sighs. Only every three seconds, did that count? “What if I said no?”

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about?”

“No.” He says truthfully. Bullshit diversion tactics. Black was full of them. Annoyingly they worked on him approximately 100% of the time.

“No?”

“I’m finished with you fucking with me.”

“Since when?”

“Recently. What were you thinking about?”

“It’s literally none of your business now.”

Snape finishes his drink. “Drink with me then.”

“Yeah ok Sev.” Sirius says cocking his head to the side.

He grabs a second glass and sits down at the stool next to him. “So you think I sound ok then?” He asks.

“Obviously.” He answers. “Black do try to keep up, I do not enjoy repeating myself. It’s some of your best work. Your voice is… your voice has got even better if anything.” He winces inwardly. Could he be more obvious? His voice was something else and Black is sure to remember how infatuated he had been with it.

“You used to be obsessed with me, do you remember?”

He grimaces. Evidently he did. There wasn’t any point in denying it. He’d told him often enough. “I must have been unbearable.”

“Sweetheart if you didn’t know I was obsessed with you right back then there’s no helping you.”

Had he known that? Or had he always been convinced that Sirius would get bored soon enough and ditch him.

He remembers during a show one night when they had just started to get the kind of numbers that fill large venues. He’d been arguing with one of the execs who’d been trying to shaft them with a new contract that Severus hadn’t let the band sign yet. Sirius exits the stage sweaty and pumped up from having two thousand people idolise him, Sirius had taken to it like he was born to it, Jesus, he was after all. Severus hadn’t been watching that night but he knew what Sirius looked like on stage, what he had always looked like; cheeky and playful, knowingly self-important, Sirius was never so beautiful as when he was in front of a crowd. Sirius had walked past him, grabbing Severus by his tie and pulling him with him. Severus doesn’t resist, knowing from experience that Sirius would soon be fucking him in his dressing room – he sure wasn’t going to pass that up to keep talking to some dim-witted balding nobody who wouldn’t ever be useful to him anyway.

“These fucking suits.” Sirius growls as he pushes him into his room. He paws at Severus’ tie pulling it loose and tears at the buttons on his shirt. “I’m obsessed with you in these suits.”

Severus had recently decided to start dressing the part of a manager and he would wear these very tight black suits with ties and white shirts. He supposes he saw it in a magazine somewhere and imagined he looked cool. Well, he was all of 22. Come to think of it he still dresses fairly similarly, though now the suits are tailored, and he forgoes that abominable black nail polish he used to wear.

“God I’ve been thinking about this ass all night.” Sirius says.

“Yes I’m sure you have.” Severus replies, rolling his eyes. More like he had been thinking about his tongue in the ass of some pretty 18 year old in the front row or that journalist who had flirted with him before the show and smiled after him like a cat who’d just caught a canary.

“Whatever.” Sirius says. “Take this fucking thing off, it’s obscene.”

What if he had believed him every time he had told him he wanted him, was obsessed with him, wanted him more than anyone else. Would that have changed anything?

“Did you write that song about me?” He asks him.

Sirius downs the rest of his drink. “Harry’s home.” He says.

* * *

 

Severus is in a bathroom stall and his head is reeling. For a lucid second he wonders what the hell he doing here but then the bump of coke kicks in and that question doesn’t seem to matter, he’s in control of this situation, he’s in control of any situation, he’s powerful, there’s nothing he can’t do.

The kid’s cute and probably naive enough to think you get a record deal by sucking some old guy’s dick in a bathroom.

“This is the part where I make it clear to you that this isn’t going to get you signed.” He tells him enunciating his words clearly. He isn’t interested in anyone who misunderstands this simple concept.

The boy smiles at him mischievously. “I bet it won’t.” He says looking him up and down.

Severus interest is piqued for the first time tonight, but he’s always liked the feisty ones. The first time he had done coke it had been of course with Sirius, Sirius and some girl Sirius had met with long legs and a short skirt. After they had sat at a round booth and Sirius and the-girl-with-nice-legs had started making out but this was before he and Sirius had got together and he was just Sirius’s weird looking manager so the pain he had felt at seeing that had no basis for being and all he could do was sit there awkwardly. At some point he and Sirius’s hands had brushed and neither of them had moved, then he had felt Sirius hand on his thigh and he had sat there hard and aching and staring into his drink while Sirius had gripped and kneaded his upper thigh with his tongue in someone else’s mouth. Finally he had pushed Sirius hand off and gotten up and left and Sirius had called after him though he had really wanted him to follow.

The boy was apparently the eldest brother of that friend of Harry’s, Ron, and the other red headed one that worked for Sirius. Severus had noticed him onstage earlier tonight and had thought their sound was interesting enough but that he in particular was something special with his tall lanky good looks and impish grin combined with that wild shock of red hair. They had been introduced when the boy had ended up next to him in one of the round corner booths. Bill was his name apparently. So Severus, do you party? He had asked him. Yes, apparently he did for cute boys who played in bands. Still.

“What do I get for a handjob?” The boy named Bill asks.

“Trouble.” He answers quirking his mouth up at him before unlocking the stall door.

“Thanks for the coke,” he says then exits before he can change his mind. It was one thing getting a handjob from the brother of Potter’s best friend; it was quite another doing it in your ex husband’s bathroom. 

* * *

 

Sirius had noticed Severus disappear with the elder Weasley boy and was counting the minutes on his phone until they returned. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the information. Perhaps he could Google it. Average time for blow job in toilet stall. Or, how long does it take for your ex to fuck some twenty-something he picked up in a bar?

At nine minutes he sees the bastard exit the bathroom alone. Nine minutes. What the fuck does that mean?

He gets up ostensibly to grab a beer but actually to make sure that he’s not sitting there when Severus sits back down.

He can’t help but brush past him on the way though, he’s going for disinterested but Severus grabs his arm. “Sirius you can’t seriously be thinking about leaving me here?”

He opens his mouth to say you seem to be doing all right so far, but he notices Severus’s pupils are blown wide and he seems suspiciously relaxed.

“Severus are you high?”

Severus laughs.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

“It’s just a little coke Sirius, relax.” He says in a perfect imitation of himself a dozen years ago.

“Are you serious? That’s shitty even for you Snape.” He says before turning and striding away. Can you snort blow and get sucked off in nine minutes? Yes probably he admits, in fact he’s willing to bet he’s done it in less. It’s not that he minds people doing drugs around him, his problem with drugs was his problem not anyone else’s. But God the whole thing was so tacky! Wasn’t he allowed to be upset?

He doesn’t realise that Severus had followed him until he grabs his arm again.

“Black I’m sorry, this is a very strange situation for me and I’m afraid I’m not handling it as well as I could. I wasn’t thinking. Please don’t be mad.” He says giving him puppy dog eyes. “Come dance with me.”

Sirius groans, why did that stupid hangdog look work on him? “Alright. But only because you never could hold your drugs and now I have to look after you.”

“Black I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of – oh,” He says, “oh I love this song.”

Sirius thinks this loose-limbed impish Snape might just be the death of him.

He repeats that thought twenty minutes later when they’re dancing impossibly close to a thrumming psychedelic pop song sung with breathy vocals by a scruffy longhaired boy in barefeet and an anorak. Somewhere along the way Severus had lost his jacket and tie, he was wearing only those dark dress pants tailored to within an inch of their life and a white shirt, sleeves pushed up and buttons straining sinfully. Christ, is that the outline of Snape’s cock he can feel against his thigh? Lord help him. He could not be held accountable for anything he did tonight at this point.

“Severus are you hard?” He asks him. Does that mean he hadn’t come earlier?

“Black,” he says, “I might be on the wrong side of 40 but I’m still capable of getting hard when pressed up against a handsome man.”

He shouldn’t like hearing that as much as he does.

“You still think I’m handsome?” He asks, gripping Severus’s still slim hips with his hands and sliding against him. It’s the first time he’s had his hands on him like this in over 10 years but his body doesn’t seem to have forgotten how much it likes this body, his cock gives a throb then fills out.

“Beautiful, you are hands down the sexiest guy in here by far. God,” He says looking at him, “How on earth did I manage to nab you? You’re exquisite.”

“Severus –“ He starts to say but Snape interrupts him.

“Oh God. Actually I – I think I might be sick. Perhaps you were right.”

Sirius isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed so he settles for self-satisfied resignation. “Yes darling, I do know you. Come along.”

He slings an arm around his waist and leads Severus upstairs to his apartment where he somehow manages to manoeuvre him up the stairs to his room, install him in his bed and get him to drink two full glasses of water before he passes out.

“Good night you silly old bugger.” He says softly to his already sleeping form before tiptoeing downstairs to the couch.

Definitely for the best, he thinks as he grabs a box of tissues and ensures himself that Harry wasn’t home yet, that could have got messy. He wanks quietly yet heatedly under the cover of his blanket, coming hard into his hand and biting down into his lip. God Severus, he thinks, you get to me good.


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius remembers the moment when he realised that Severus – spiky, hot headed, _strange_ _looking_ Severus – was, for better or worse, his guy.

They had been on tour for two weeks solid and Severus, for the first time ever, hadn’t been able to come. They’d been more or less exclusive since they’d first hooked up five months ago, which he had been surprised to learn he was ok with. More than ok with if he was being truthful.

Two weeks without Severus had been hard, painful even. He’d been in a God awful mood for most of it, and the few phone conversations they’d had hadn’t been enough to assuage him of the fear that Severus might have just got sick of his bullshit and moved on.

They’d arrived home early in the morning to the house he shared with the rest of the band. Technically Severus and Lily flatted together across town but they both now spent more time at the band house than they did at their own, Lily and James were already practically married by that point and Sirius knew that Severus liked to keep an eye on him at all times as if he thought him likely to slip and accidently stick his dick in a roadie or a cute girl from one of their shows instead of him. When he gets up to his room the relief he feels when he finds Severus in his bed almost floors him. He’s fast asleep in just his underwear, long limbs thrown asunder and blanket pushed off displaying one perfect, round ass cheek where one side of his boxer briefs are rucked up. Sirius dumps his stuff where he stands, toes his shoes off and sits on the bed next to him. He pulls Severus up to sit him on his lap and he comes easy, loose limbed, like a baby giraffe and burrows into his neck sleepily.

“Siriusss.” He says, slurring his name, that deep voice of his roughened even further by sleep. He’s not sure who decided to give this skinny, baby faced kid the voice of a caged panther but he’s glad they did.

“God did I miss you kid.” Sirius tells him putting his arms around him and Severus makes an irritated sound into his neck and wriggles in his lap.

They awkwardly manoeuvre Severus out of his underwear and Sirius pushes his jeans down and Severus sit on him, Sirius’s hands on his ass, guiding him in.

 _Sev_ , he says, _tell me you missed me, just tell me you missed me just tell me please_. And Severus looks at him like he’s in pain then he nods too many times and it looks like it tears him apart to admit it, to admit he needs anyone and Sirius knows it does. _I adore you_ , Sirius tells him, _I’m going to keep you_. He wonders if Severus realises he means it.

Severus moans into his mouth when he comes, a desperate sound that undoes him and makes him want to promise him the world.

Sirius is thinking about this the next morning as he watches Severus emerge from his bedroom, dishevelled, hair lank and greasy, but fully dressed and buttoned up, watches as he scowls at him in lieu of a good morning and makes a bee line for the coffee that Sirius had already prepared. It’s not until he’s sat down at the breakfast bar next to him and had imbued most of his cup that Severus even acknowledges his presence.

“Ugh, you look far too chirpy for how I feel this morning, it makes me want to punch you.”

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Sirius smiles a genuine smile, he prefers his Snape like this anyway. Acerbic and prickly. The uncomfortable side of wrong.

“I got papped this morning,” Sirius informs him. “You might want to hide out here for a bit.”

“Oh god that’s just what I need. What could you possibly have been doing to attract the paparazzo at this hour of the morning?”

“I went for a run.” Sirius tells him matter of factly.

Severus makes a throaty sound. “You make me sick.”

“I still have no idea why they would be interested again after all this time.”

“You don’t?”

“Not really.”

“Here’s a guess. You still run half naked don’t you.”

“Shut up.” He says and Severus quirks an eyebrow at him. “I get hot!”

Severus shakes his head. “You are a genuinely disgusting person.” He says.

Sirius fakes pouting. “I think you should be nice to me. I looked after you last night.”

Severus appears to think it over. “I’ll consider it.” He says, which Sirius knows, for Snape is tantamount to a thank you and he gives a little contented smile.

Sirius finds him a shirt that’s a little too small on him and Severus takes a shower. Sirius tries not to think about him wet and naked not 10 feet away from him or the fact that he was once allowed to walk in and join him but now he’s not. How did that happen? It feels odd. If you were to have told him that a dozen years ago he would have laughed and said that’s crazy. Severus would always be his, even through the fights, the breakups, the divorce, he was his. Except now here they were, passing planets, practically strangers, and Severus was hooking up with men in bathrooms that weren’t him and he had to be ok with that. Oh still upset about that are we? Fan-fucking-tastic.

“You look good in my shirt.” He tells him when he emerges from the bathroom in a billow of steam, dark maroon shirt tucked in and buttoned up despite the heat, and sleeves rolled up as far as they will go. He waves a joint at Severus and waggles his eyebrows questioningly. Severus gives him a small sly smile.

He leads them up to the roof where despite the sun the breeze is cool and refreshing against their faces and necks.

“Oh this is lovely,” Severus says closing his eyes and leaning his hands against the brick barrier. He’s flushed from the shower and the drugs and alcohol that are no doubt still in his system and he looks spectacular like that, relaxed and open, hair still wet and clinging to his neck.

“A little hungover are we love?” Sirius asks.

“I’ll feel a lot better after you spark that thing up.” Severus replies.

Sirius laughs and turns away from the wind, putting the joint in his mouth he ignites the end and inhales so the flame catches. He passes it over to Severus.

“I come up here to play sometimes.” He tells him. “The acoustics aren’t as bad as you’d think.”

“I’d like to hear that.” Severus says.

“Yeah?”

“You know I would.”

“We could probably manage that. You’re not leaving yet are you?”

Severus passes him the joint, exhales and says, “You haven’t even signed anything yet.”

“Oh. I’ll do it when we go back down if you like.” Sirius says, the idea makes him feel depressed.

“Ok.” Is he imagining that Severus sounds unenthused all of a sudden? “I’ll make an appointment with the lawyers then, while I’m here.”

“Oh?”

“It might mean I would have to stay a bit longer but it will be easier to organise if I’m here.”

“Sure.”

Severus laughs and takes the joint from his fingers, “You sound like a yank.”

Sirius gives him a faux horrified look. “I bloody do not.”

“’Oh, sure,’” he mocks him in fake-American. “’Absolutely.’”

Sirius gives him the fingers.

“No, I like it,” Severus laughs, “It’s cute.”

“Cute? You must be wasted.”

“You are cute,” Severus says, his voice impeded by the joint in his mouth. He sucks on it uselessly. “Light please.”

Sirius steps up to him and cupping his hand around to shield the flame from the wind. “I should give you drugs more often. You said something similar last night.”

“I didn’t exactly say “cute” last night.”

“No, I know. …So which is it? Am I cute or am I sexy Severus?” This is how he gets himself into trouble, comments like these.

Severus studies him as he exhales through the side of his mouth. He’d always liked watching Severus smoke, he did it so well. “I believe what I actually said was you were exquisite.”

And then he does what he always does, acts on instinct, does exactly what he wants to do, bugger the consequences, wraps his arm around Severus and they’re chest to chest. Another dumb move he can’t take back. “You idiot, you made me drop the weed.” Severus tells him.

“What are we doing Sev?” He whispers.

Severus shakes his head at him in answer. Sirius flicks between his eyes and his lips, _stop me_ , he pleads to him silently, _stop me now_. But instead Severus’ lips part and Sirius can’t help himself, he swipes his lips against Severus’s, lightly, experimentally and Severus leans in closer, his breath hot against his mouth. He pulls Severus in tight, pressing their lips together in a hard fierce kiss that makes them both breathe in sharply through their noses. Their bodies are flush and they press together harder still, mouths closed still. Close but not too close. This doesn’t count either. They finally gasp apart out of breath.

“I – “ He tries to say but Severus kisses him instead, his tongue suddenly in his mouth. He tastes of smoke and toothpaste. He still kisses the same, still kisses like he’s done everything else all his life, viciously, whole-heartedly. Sirius presses him back against the brick barrier, blood pounding in his ears, his hands holding that slim body steady to his own, he hears Severus make a small noise in the back of his throat and his cock lengthens and fills out in sympathy and Severus no doubt can feel it. His head’s swimming with the weed, with the hot wet of his mouth and the smell of him, so achingly familiar he feels almost assaulted by it. He slows the kiss so he can taste him better, their tongues meet wetly in a slow slide, then he takes Severus’s lip between his, feeling with a hot rush of arousal like he’s claiming him. _Mine_ , he wants to growl, but he doesn’t get the chance because Severus turns his head suddenly, pushing him away gently but firmly so he’s just standing there mouth hanging, hard and panting.

“Mm, sorry I- I can’t do this – I thought I - Don’t.” He says putting a hand up as Sirius makes to move toward him again. “I’ll – I’ll call. Later. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

And with that he disappears with Sirius’ voice echoing uselessly after him. His voice sounds thin and pathetic to his own ears. He stares at the door with Severus’ name still on his lips and a tight knot forming in his chest. Finally he picks up the joint Severus had dropped, lights it with a shaking hand and inhales as deeply as his lungs allow. “Fuck,” he says swiping roughly at the wetness on his cheek with the back of his hand, _get it together you pussy_.

* * *

 

The first time Sirius had said I love you Severus had left suddenly. He had turned on him viciously, what the fuck are you talking about, he had said, and then he had left. Sirius had said it finally because he had grown sick of saying _I want you_ , _I need you_ instead of what he really meant. He was so full, so dizzy with loving him that he had wanted to shout it after him wherever he went, he wanted to sing it, to tie him down and write those words on him with ballpoint pen, over and over. Instead he had said it quietly, without fanfare, in bed one morning, brushing a lock of hair from Severus’s face.

After he had sat and smoked and blinked away tears, refusing to cry.

It wasn’t until the next day that he had tried to find him, which is so unlike him, normally he’s recklessly impulsive, quick to rail and accuse, to demand an explanation, especially where Severus is concerned. He finds Lily making coffee in the kitchen of her and Severus’s flat.

He tries to think of something to say but he can’t think of anything – he just wants to see him. “He here?” Is all he can come up with.

She studies him obviously trying to decide what she should tell him. “What did you do this time Sirius?”

“I’m not sure,” He admits, defeated, and she must have believed him because she says, _upstairs_ , and doesn’t try to lecture him or press for details.

He knocks softly at his door, _babe?_ He calls tentatively when there’s no answer. Eventually he hears shuffling and the door is opened a crack, which he takes as an invitation. Severus is in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt and sits hugging his legs on his unmade bed and Sirius gets the feeling he’s been there for awhile.

“Can we talk?” Sirius offers.

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Can I sit then?” He asks, motioning to the bed.

“What a ridiculous question. Do whatever you wish Black, I won’t stop you.”

Sirius supposes that is as much of a yes as he’s going to get.

Severus offers nothing so neither does he, and they sit in silence for a while before Sirius nudges him with his shoulder, _hey_ , he says. _Hey_ Severus says back, and Sirius presses a quick kiss to his temple.

“It’s not you.” Severus says finally.

“Ok.”

“I am unused to – that is I have never – no one has ever… loved me before. At any rate no one’s ever told me.”

Sirius blanches. Never? He feels a sharp stab of rage for the monsters that had called them selves Severus’s parents.

“I may have overreacted slightly, when you… I ah, find it hard to understand why anyone – I find it hard to believe you would…”

Sirius swallows thickly, he wants to say something, the right thing, but right now he’s afraid if he opens his mouth it will come out as a sob. He blinks hard several times.

“Black, don’t you dare start feeling sorry for me, not you, not now. I won’t have it.”

“No, I won’t.” He manages, shaking his head.


	6. Chapter 6

He may have overreacted – probably he overreacted. He just couldn’t have Black kissing him like that, like he was the last person on earth, like he was his to take. It had hurt too much and it had felt too good. Kissing Black had been, as always, like a 30 millimetre to the head, his whole body thrumming to the beat of his heart and his whole world reduced to a circumference of about 20 inches. And he should know, he’d had the cold kiss of metal at his temple more than once; it had been one of Riddle’s favourite little games (there’d been others but they were far less pleasant). The only logical conclusion to that kiss was him aching, alone, and 3,000 miles away, and the distraction that would bring to his work alone for the next six months did not bear thinking of. Already the fantasy he had constructed of he and Black as friends, as semi-competent co-guardians for Harry was starting to crack and it had only been a week. His only options that he could see at this point was to fix it, to set some clear guidelines with Black, as he had in every other aspect of his life, or to high tail it out of there and let Lupin and that shit Pettigrew sort it out. And of course he’s going to fix it. Severus Snape was not one to run. He had never been intimidated by guns anyway. (This had in fact driven Riddle mad, he’d loved to see people writhe and squirm with fear. Once a new recruit had pissed his pants and Riddle had laughed with pure childlike glee then had pulled the trigger anyway, though the chamber had been empty. “Oo you’re _so cool_ Severus,” he would say, “cool as a fucking cucumber. I bet I know how to break you though.” He’d add).

If he had to be here he was going to damn well make the most of it. This was New York after all and he wasn’t the best in the business for nothing. He was going to return home to London with prospective clients and the kind of contacts that will make Crabbe from marketing crap his not inconsiderable trousers or he wasn’t a Slytherin.

The first thing he does is call Lucius.

“Malfoy have you heard of Bank Vault? They’re from Brooklyn.”

“No. Let me see if I can -“ Severus can hear typing. “Oh. Very pretty Severus. Should I be jealous?”

“No.”

“Why ever not? The least you could do is have some fun while you’re in that dreadful place. I do worry about you darling, it can’t be good for you to be alone as much as you are.”

“I’m not alone.”

“Darling, I don’t count.”

“And for that I am forever thankful.”

“Oh that hurts. You know I would have left Narcissa for you years ago if I thought that you would have me.”

“I’m sure.”

“As you like Severus. Speaking of which, how’s it going with that husband of yours? It all seems dreadfully sordid if The Mail is to be believed.”

Severus is mildly surprised that Lucius had noticed. “Ex.” He says. “And, ah…”

“Oh dear. It’s worse than I thought.”

“I think I might be making quite the hash of it.” He admits.

“My poor dear boy, you sound quite distraught.”

“I’ll cope I’m sure. What do you think of the band?”

“Very good, very good Severus, that red hair is absolutely genius.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Do you need me to put the feelers out?”

“No, no. I have a … contact.” He says remembering that handsome red head and how charmed he had been by him, he never signed anyone who didn’t prove notable in person and his instincts were rarely wrong. “I’ll get in touch personally.”

“Oh I see, now I am jealous. Anything else for me?”

“There is something but they are… rather reluctant.”

“When has that ever stopped a Slytherin? Good work Severus, I’m starting to think it was a good idea after all to let you do this.”

Severus rolls his eyes.

“Have some fun with that red head, if he can distract you from that ex of yours I say it’s all worth it. Not too much though, we need you back home.”

“How touching.”

“Indeed. Now, tell me you miss me terribly and I’ll leave you alone.”

Severus shakes his head, Lucius was the worst person on the planet but admittedly he was his closest friend and he did miss his irreverence and his wit, as inadvertent and shallow as it was, when he was away for too long. “I do, to my never ending bewilderment.”

After he ends the call he finds Bill Weasley online, _Mr Weasley_ , he pm’s him, _you may remember we met last night, I am with Slytherin Records, would you be interested in taking a meeting? I may be able to set aside some time to attend your Saturday show, perhaps we can speak further then. Severus Snape._

He gets a reply within 5 minutes, _Mr Snape, you betcha, you are on the door. I’ll be looking out for you ;)_

* * *

 

“Oh it’s you.”

“You were expecting someone else?” The bar was closed and the door locked, but Sirius had answered the door when he had buzzed.

“Not expecting. Hoping. Anyone but you.”

“Do you think I – Oh hi Harry.”

“Heya Severus. How’s it going?”

“Oh good. Good.”

“That’s what Sirius said. Are you two fighting again? He’s been moping around all-“

“Jesus Harry.” Sirius interjects. He disappears behind the bar and Severus takes a seat next to Harry on one of the bar stools.

“Remus told me you’d do that, and not to worry.”

Sirius says, “When did you speak to Remus?”

“Last night.”

“You never told me.”

“I’m telling you now obviously.”

“Don’t be smart Potter.” Severus says before he can stop himself.

“Oh, I _love_ this.” Harry says gesturing between the two of them. Severus’ lip twitches to tell him to watch it.

“Watch your tone Harry.” Sirius says.

“Well this is fun. I think I like it better when you’re sniping at each other actually.” Harry says getting up and disappearing out the back.

 _See?_ Severus says with a raised eyebrow, _now you know what I had to deal with_.

“If you’ve come to kiss me again that ship has definitely sailed.”

“Would you shoosh.” Severus says lowering his voice, dear god did the man have no self-restraint? “I’ve come to get you to sign these. And to see about – to see if- oh blast. How badly have I buggered it up this time?”

“Relax Severus, it’s fine.”

“It is?”

“Of course you idiot. It was a stupid kiss, we were high. You do get a say in who you kiss you know. No big deal.”

“That’s not why I – “

“And now we know don’t we? That there’s nothing between us anymore. You felt that too right? For the best really, wouldn’t you say?”

Severus widens his eyes at him in shock. Yes. Of course. How could he have been so stupid as to think… as to feel…

He schools his features to blank. “Of course.” He tells him smoothly, the lie coming out easy. Far more easily than the truth.

“Now where do I bloody sign?” Sirius asks him impatiently. “Let’s get this fucking thing over with so I never have to think on it again.”

Severus makes short work of the paperwork, walks Sirius quickly through the particulars, then excuses himself. No need to set boundaries, he thinks as he leaves, when your face and personality will do that for you.

He’s got some time before the redhead’s gig tonight so he goes back to the hotel to shower and try to wash some of the self-disgust off. He wishes fervently he could beg off but this is work and he’s damned if he’s going to let him interfere with the work.

He makes the water as hot as he can stand and for a second the shock of the scalding hot jets are a welcome relief from the voice in his head, then the sob he’s been holding back racks silently through him and brings with it white hot tears. His words slash through him like razorblades, _nothing_ _between us anymore_ … _You felt that too right?_ Oh God, it hurt. He’d do anything, he’d burn worlds for him. Why didn’t he want him? Why was it always like this?

 _Make it stop_ , he pleads to the steam and the air, _just please make it stop_.

Later that night he finds a way, at least for a while. He promises the boy he’ll sign him with his dick still in the sweet warm of his mouth, promises he’ll make him famous, promises him things he probably can’t, or won’t bother to deliver.

The boy had been a vision on stage, hair slicked back, all legs, and pouting out his lyrics in a breathy falsetto, so casually you could be forgiven for not noticing how good he was, how well arranged and practiced was each pause, each breath, each perfectly hit high note. The dark synth pop backing was at least as good, if not better, and could have easily have made some waves without their ginger god of a front man, but with him they were elevated to something more than a few thousand hits on Spotify and a morning spot at Cochella. Severus was picturing the _Interview_ spread of them already. And perhaps that had been one of the things he had promised as he had filled the boy’s mouth, messing up his perfectly coifed hair with his fist and then messing up his mouth with his come as it dribbles over and down his chin. Bill wipes at it with his sleeve and looks at him, smug, like he’s done something good, instead of something he will regret later.

 _Oh you’re going to hate me before we’re done_ , he thinks.


	7. Chapter 7

The meeting had to be one of the worst he’s endured in awhile. At least, the timing couldn’t be worse. Meetings with lawyers are usually terrible but this was another thing altogether. He notices the man with the silver hair watching him closely from the beginning. It doesn’t worry him but he’s not unaware of it. It was his associate he’d been speaking to thus far so he had ignored the silver headed man except for a hand shake at the beginning. Afterward, any small relief that he felt that he’d fulfilled his part in the obligation and can now go home was short lived as the man stopped him in the lift on his way down.

“I’m sorry you have a very recognisable name.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself but I would if you don’t want me finding out a lot more about you then you want me to know.” He tells him half hoping he wouldn’t so he could go straight home and nurse his headache.

“Ha, you’re perfect. I think you’re exactly like I would have imagined you.”

“Either you’re stupid or you’re not taking me seriously. Which is it?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, we have a mutual friend.”

“I’m sure we do not.”

“Sirius Black?”

Oh Jesus Christ, fucking Black. He lets out a sigh of relief, having Sirius Black involved was never good news but he was fairly far the done his list of associations that could get him killed. Which is saying something. Black’s talent for destruction was considerable.

“Excellent observation. I’m inspired by your firm grasp of the contract your client is clearly overpaying you to understand.”

“No unfortunately I know Sirius a little better than that. I don’t actually deal with these small contracts usually but I knew our firm was meeting with you today and I just couldn’t resist. Sirius never mentioned me? Danny Weir.”

“Yes I got your name earlier. Clearly not.” Why is every blasted building here so tall? The elevator was still going.

“Of course. Sirius and I dated. I hesitate to say seriously. Half seriously. I was the serious half.”

“I’m ecstatic for you.”

“I know who you are Mr Snape. I’m sorry I don’t mean to sound so underhand. This is merely an unhealthy curiosity about an ex, nothing more sinister than that. Though I must say now I’ve met you … I do see it. I bet you keep him in line eh?”

The best that could be said for the man was that he was attractive in a silver fox kind of way. Lucky for him because he was quite ridiculous. Though Snape’s curiosity was piqued by the man’s use of the word ‘unfortunately.’ It was an apt description of an acquaintance with Black.

“Mr Weir if you do indeed know Black as you claim you won’t be surprised to know that I have never been able to keep him in line ever.” The only person who ever had was dead.

“Oh? I am surprised, my impressions are rarely wrong. In all honesty I think I really just wanted to meet the person that could induce that man to marry. I had a hard enough time getting him to commit to anything more than dinner in the whole three years we were together.”

“My lord, how on earth did you do that? We should swap notes.” He’s surprised that he’s acting this cordial towards the man, he would have thought he would feel much more animosity, he really was much more attractive than him. Successful too. Though instead he feels strangely like a comrade in arms.

The man laughs. “Any time, in fact – take my card, if there’s anything I can help you with while you’re in town get in touch. I like you, I didn’t expect to.”

“Thank you, but I won’t be staying.” He says taking the card anyway.

“Oh? Next time then. Goodbye Mr Snape.” The lift had stopped on the ground floor and Severus moves to leave. “Oh Mr Snape?” He calls after him.

“Yes?”

“Don’t let that asshole get to you.” The man winks at him and Severus turns and exits.

Severus goes back to the hotel and tries to piece together the strange conversation he’d just had. He wonders what Sirius had done to the guy, but in all honestly he probably knows, that’s just who Sirius was – callous, selfish, unthinkingly cruel. Strange though that he could also smile at you and make you think you were the only person alive. Or that he could kiss you so sweetly, so tenderly, that you could almost think – that you almost believed he still… But no, Sirius was Sirius, there were no hidden depths, and there was never anything special about him. Though at one time you thought there was didn’t you? He thinks. And he left you anyway, didn’t he? He destroyed you. He’ll do it again if you let him.

 _But I think I want him to_ , he thinks traitorously, but he pushes the thought away quickly before it has a chance to fully form.

He emails both Lupin and Pettigrew and he’s half tempted to just message Black, it’s done, I’m leaving, and leave it at that. Potter though. And the new client. They’d signed but he’d have to meet with them before he left, it wouldn’t be fair not to. He cock gives a throb at the thought. Oh no, none of that, he chides himself, that was most definitely a once off. He’d be home soon and he could find another way to forget Black then. 

* * *

 

Severus calls him that night. He hadn’t heard from him since that afternoon he had signed the papers and he had said… Well it was his fault if he had believed something that was so clearly and obviously untrue. For such a smart man he’s the stupidest person he knows. When he sees his name on his screen his heart leaps and he remembers how 20 years ago his heart would stutter the same way when he saw him in the crowd during those initial first few months the band had started playing and he hadn’t really known him at all.

He answers on the second ring. “Severus.” He answers breathily, then winces.

“Black.” He hears on the other end of the line, and he thinks call me Sirius, _please_.

“I haven’t heard from you in days.”

“It’s done. I’m leaving.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“You’re the one who’s choosing to leave.”

“What does that mean Black?”

“For fuck’s sake Severus I have a first name.”

“Ok. What the fuck does that mean _Sirius_?” He sounds angry. That’s one thing at least.

“I heard you signed Weasley’s band.”

“Don’t tell me you give a shit.”

“They’re good. It’s a good call.”

“Is it.”

“What, I’m being gracious.”

“I met a friend of yours today.”

“Oh?”

“He seems to hate you as much as I do.”

“That’s not necessarily a small list of people, though it would be a smaller list than yours granted.”

“He’s from Clondike and Weir.”

“Oh. Fucking Danny?”

“Hmm. He seemed to know you very well.”

“Not very well, no. You jealous?”

“Why on earth should I be jealous? There’s nothing between us. Didn’t you say?”

“Sev. Come off it. You know I didn’t mean that. Were you?”

“I know no such thing. And no. Or would you like me to repeat myself a second time?”

“Shame about you leaving.”

“Yes. Not that this hasn’t been lovely.”

“When?”

“Friday.”

“Fine. Will we see you before we go?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

He ends the call. Idiot. He’s glad he’s leaving. Only Severus Snape would ignore every good thing you ever say and latch on to the one bad thing like a dog guarding a bone. It was stupid, Severus should know, he should _know_ how badly he wanted him, he’d always been very clear on that. He remembers once after one of those terrible games he used to play with him. He would flirt with some girl, or more likely a group of them, drink with them, make them laugh, make sure he was watching. Sev, he would say to him, have you met such and such? Touch her knee, whisper in her ear. Do this until he saw him storm off. He’d watch where he’d go. Bathroom meant he’d follow him in there, and after Severus would make out with him on the dance floor, show everyone who he belonged to. If he left that meant he’d gone back home, normally to Sirius’ place but not always. Careful Siri, James would say, you’re gonna break that boy one day. Then he’d walk away from her without a word or a backward glance, grab a shot from the bar, follow after him. Terrible terrible callous shit, shit that made most people hate him, Sev though, he never cared how Sirius treated other people. He remembers though, once after, finding Severus at home in his bed, and Severus had bit and scratched and howled like a cat then Sirius had licked his ass till he had mewed like a kitten, told him, fuck I want you so bad, told him, if I ever stop wanting you assume I’m dead. He wonders if he should remind him of that. Though, what’s the point, if he doesn’t know by now, he never will. He’s bored of saying it.

* * *

 

Peter calls and says, “you know I was thinking maybe I should come over there, seems like all the gang's back together. I been reading the papers.” Severus doesn’t threaten him. He’s very careful not to.

“I would advise against it.” He says keeping his voice even and measured.

“I’m quite curious you see Snape.”

“There’s that saying about cats and curiosity isn’t there? I wonder if it applies to rats too.”

“Eh?”

He takes a breath. He needs to calm down, not say anything he’ll regret. “Nothing. I’ll be back in London on Friday. Is there any chance this can wait till then?”

“Not sure. I’d have to think about it.”

“Fine, try not to hurt yourself.” He tells him, hanging up. He didn’t handle that very well, and that could end up costing him. The sooner he can get home the better.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Sorry this one took so long, work and life got in the way. The final two won't be far behind.

On Thursday the heat breaks and it starts raining in thick cool steady drops. It won’t be a busy tonight and he’s tossing up whether he should leave them to it after he helps set up.

“Is anyone going to pour a jug?” He asks, flipping a chair and throwing a fistful of coasters on the table. He should really get it himself. If Severus were here he would scowl and point out he had two arms. Or something. Scary how quickly he got used to having him around again.

“Already on it.” George says lining up a jug and three glasses on the bar.

Sirius flips the last of the chairs and George yells “Hermione!”

“Yes I’m right here George.”

“Bloody hell where’d you come from.”

They sit at the bar and pour themselves drinks and he asks George about his brother like he’s picking at a wound, if Remus were here he would tell him to stop but he’s not.

George tells him he’ll be staying here for now and Sirius is relieved then he wonders what for now means.

“Though he reckons he’ll have to travel back and forth to London a bit.” George continues. “Not that he’ll mind that if your mate Snape is ther-“ He stops short half way through his sentence and goes very still.

This is what Sirius wanted to hear but he still feels a bit sick. He wonders if Bill will stay with Severus when he’s there. Will he fuck him in his bed? Will he think of Sirius then? Will it feel to him like a betrayal? Sirius hopes it does, every time, even as he knows he’s crazy for thinking it.

“Is that right?” He says before he’s able to school his tone to neutral.

“– um, no what I meant was-”

“Stop gossiping George, Sirius he doesn’t know anything.” Hermione cuts in.

“It’s nothing to me.” He says so casually forced that it sounds almost psychotic, even to him. If he had wanted them to believe him indifferent he maybe shouldn’t have practically humped Severus on the dance floor the other night.

“Oh, ok?”

“Why would I care? He can knock himself out. Be my fucking guest.” He gets up, he has to get away before he throws something.

“Um…?” Hermione’s responses have taken on an uncertain up lilt; Sirius is all too familiar with people taking that tone with him.

“There’s no point in me being here tonight, I take it you can handle things?”

“Of course.” Hermione says looking openly worried.

“You idiot.” He hears her tell George as he walks away. 

* * *

 

By the time Severus gets inside he’s wet through and his hair clings to his face unattractively, he’d hoped Sirius would be downstairs on the bar, it would make it easier to say goodbye, less personal, but it looks like no such luck. He wonders if he’s upstairs, or maybe he’s out, getting laid, he wouldn’t have to go very far. Bastard.

“He around?” He asks Hermione and she makes a face.

“What?”

“He’s upstairs, I think, but he’s in a… funny mood.” She explains.

He narrows his eyes at her, trying to decide what she means, tries to tell himself it doesn’t matter, he’ll be gone in a few hours but his irrational side wins out. “Explain.” He demands.

“I think you better just talk to him. We’re sorry. George is very sorry.”

He scowls at her. What could it possibly be now? He hasn’t even been around to say anything stupid.

When he gets upstairs Sirius is alone in the darkened room only illuminated by a soft orange lamp glow.

“I need to start locking my fucking door.” Sirius says, and Severus thinks yes you bloody should actually but even he is able to recognise that now is not the time to press that point.

“Sirius I’m too tired to play these games right now. Can we just pretend to be civil? I’ll be gone in the morning.”

“What games would you like to play then?”

“Huh? Can you please just make sense for once in your life?”

“Ok then. Did you fuck him?” He says, “Is that clear enough for you?”

Oh wait, no this is his fault, ok this is definitely his fault. Right then.

“Did you?”

“Sirius don’t.”

“Just tell me, you owe me at least that.”

“Do I? How so?”

“Just fucking tell me.”

He purses his lips. He had told himself it was just a one time thing but he had seen him and the rest of the band last night and his resolve had temporarily wavered. He blamed Black; he wasn’t normally so undisciplined nor so self-destructive, not since Sirius had been gone from his life anyway.

He looks Sirius in the eye and nods once.

Sirius winces like he’s been stabbed. “Ahh fuck.” He groans, “mm that’s rough. That’s hard to hear. That makes me… Oh God.”

Severus says nothing.

“You couldn’t have..? Oh God, when? No don’t tell me. Actually no tell me. When? When?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Before or after I kissed you you asshole, before or after?”

“After. It was after our conversation when you. After you signed. That night.”

“Oh you are so- that is so fucking like you.”

“What do you want me to say Sirius?”

“Did you like it?”

“Stop it.”

“Did you?”

“Yes! I liked it. He was like you but younger.”

“Fuck you.” Sirius spits.

“Why are you doing this?” Severus pleads with him, confused and defeated. “What on earth do you want?”

“I want you to stop fucking him Severus, that’s what I want!”

“Oh. Ok.”

“Wh- what?”

“Ok fine. That’s fine.”

“Huh?”

“You can ask anything of me. You should know that.”

“But I’m being – anything? I can ask for more?”

“Yes.”

“That man on the phone. You know the one. I want you to stop sleeping with him.”

“Ok.”

“You’re mad.”

“Probably.”

“It seems a little unfair.” Sirius says. “Do you…want anything from me?”

“Did you write that song about me?” Severus asks him.

“Of course I did. Who else?” Sirius says, shaking his head. “Kid you’re in every song I write. Every word.”

“Fine then, I want them. They’re mine I want them.”

“They’re yours.”

“I want to record you.”

“I assumed that’s what you meant.”

Severus swallows thickly and something eases inside his chest. He feels breathless with relief. It would have killed him to see anyone else do it, he couldn’t have allowed it. And in the end he hadn’t had to give anything in return that he hadn’t wanted to give. He wonders if Sirius realises he would have given much more.

“I really thought it would be different this time.” Sirius says.

“But it’s not.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You kissed me first.” Severus reminds him.

“You kissed me back.”

“Well I wouldn’t have if I had known you were indifferent.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “We’re still on that? You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Prove it.” He says.

“Oh, I’d be fucking happy to.” Sirius says and before Severus realises what he’s doing Sirius has grabbed him by the collar he’s kissing him, just like he had last time, like he wants him more than air, like he fucking owns him, and Severus just lets him, gives everything he has and doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t hesitate even though by God he should. Even though this will surely lead to his ruin.

“Was that good enough?” Sirius pants into his mouth, his hands clasp Severus’s face and he drags his bottom lip down with his thumb.

“No.” Severus says breathlessly. “Not even close.” His speech comes out funny because of Sirius’s thumb. _Fine_ Sirius says and kisses him again wetter and headier and more insistent, a full on Sirius Black kiss, the kind that ruins you and makes you do anything he wants. Has he mentioned how unfair all of this is? How incapable he is of both resistance and reason? He lets out an embarrassing moan into Sirius’s mouth and Sirius bites him and says _you’re delicious_.

“This will never work.” Severus tells him when Sirius has finally extracted his tongue from his mouth and he can think again.

“You’re always so tediously pessimistic.” Sirius says.

* * *

 

On the plane back to London in the wee hours of the morning the thing his mind keeps flashing back to is that night the three of them had sat and ate pizza and watched terrible films that Sirius and Harry had picked and he had complained the whole way through and they had laughed at him and it had felt like… He had felt like they were. Well. He was probably wrong anyway. What would he know?


	9. Chapter 9

When Severus had told Lucius they had to stop fucking Lucius had said “Oh, I see. Can I presume this has something to do with that sexy ex husband of yours?”

“Yes actually.“

“My my. Does this mean the Snape’s are back together?”

“Oh. I don’t know. That’s not been said. There are some things that I am not allowed to do. Conditions. There are conditions. Further to that I am unsure.” He had realised then that he hadn’t asked Sirius not to fuck anyone else. He wishes he had done that when they were asking for things.

“Well that sounds enjoyable.”

“Oh no.” He says. “It won’t be that.”

“Severus.” Lucius had said then in a tone so unlike him and Severus realises he hadn’t expected it to hurt like this.

“Oh no.” He tells Lucius. “None of that. This couldn’t have gone on forever.”

“No. Surely not.”

“Nothing need change between us.”

“Needn’t it?”

“I should expect not. Darling you couldn’t cope without me.”

“You’re right of course my dear.” Lucius says back to his familiar bored drawl, though he kisses Severus on the mouth before he leaves and Severus kisses him back, knowing he can never do that again.

When he got back to his own office he texts Sirius _DO NOT FUCK ANYONE ELSE_. And Sirius had replied _Wasn’t planning on it sexy, only you get to see this,_ then he sends him a picture of himself nude. And he is simultaneously relieved, annoyed at how flippant his reply is and turned on. Another condition. Though he is happy with the clarity of this one. No room for misunderstanding. 

* * *

 

“If he moves house, I want to know, if he gets on an aeroplane or buys a fucking tube ticket I want to know where to. If he fucking sneezes I want to know about it.”

Aberforth studies him carefully, he looks unnervingly similar to Albus, though without the kind twinkle in his eye that made people love Albus and follow him anywhere. “I understand.” He says. “Of course we could always make sure he never goes anywhere again.”

Severus takes a breath and considers it. He considers it for a long while. “No,” he says finally. “Not until we absolutely have to.”

“Alright.”

“I trust I don’t have to worry about this again?”

“Not unless I tell you to.”

“Good.” He reminds himself again that Dumbledore had said he would be able to trust his brother, and he reminds himself that he had trusted Dumbledore, through everything so far. He supposes he wasn’t about to stop now.

He leaves through the bar at the front. If he’s seen by anyone he knows, which he doubts, he’s better off being seen leaving as a customer than through the rear like a thug. Easier to explain.

He rings Black that night just to hear his voice, and listens to him prattle on and on like he likes to do and he wants to tell him, “I’m going to keep you both safe. If there’s only one thing I do it will be that.” But he knows he can never say that.

* * *

 

“Severus! Severus!” His assistant Draco is saying, he comes to and estimates he had stopped listening some time ago, he had the feeling they were talking about something important. “This is ridiculous. How long do you think you’ll keep this up? It became boring months ago.”

“Don’t forget I can fire you Draco.”

Ignoring him Draco says, “Just move there. You realise you can do that right?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Fine. Continue spacing out every few minutes and forgetting people’s names and appointments. It’s all the same to me.”

“That’s ridiculous. That hasn’t happened that much.”

“Are you listening to yourself? That much? Since when is Severus Snape _imprecise_?”

He raps his finger on the table, “Never.” He says slowly. “It’s not good is it?”

“No, it’s not good.” Draco says, “If you’re off your game we’re fucked and you’re replaceable.”

“Oh I was just thinking of how my knitting would suffer, yours is much worse. Yes thank you Draco I’m aware that is the reason. Start thinking of ways to fix this.” 

* * *

 

Severus leaves and things go back to the way they were. Not the way they were before Severus’ visit but the way they were before, when they were young. Well for him anyway. He wants him constantly, he burns for him in that relentless, world tilting way that he remembers. The way that makes him want to swear undying fealty, makes him want to scratch his name into Severus’s chest. He wouldn’t do it but he can’t help the way his fingers itch to all the same. Severus calls him sometimes twice a day because he likes to check up on him. Sirius doesn’t care, he likes being checked up on. Severus does other stuff too because he asks him, he’s right, he never does say no to him. One time Severus lies on his stomach for him and fingers himself from behind, at first he had managed to look both awkward and condescending but by the end he had been a panting, begging mess and Sirius had been so excited he had accidently got come on his laptop.

Another time Harry had walked in on him naked on the sofa one afternoon with the laptop open lazily fisting his cock and Severus on the other side of the screen doing the same, all three of them had yelled while Sirius had grabbed for a cushion. Monday! Sirius had yelled, you said you were back Monday!

Oh god! Harry had said, I’m early! And Severus had already slammed his laptop shut.

After that Severus had made a new rule that Sirius wasn’t allowed to be outside of his room when they did that. Sirius thought this a little restrictive but Severus wasn’t to be swayed. “We can keep doing that but in less Godson-scarring ways,” was what he told him, which he had to admit made sense but, _always_?

* * *

 

Getting Lucius to agree to it had been the hardest part. Harder even than the actual execution, the drawn out proposal, the endless meetings, the tedious lawyers. The board hadn’t been all that hard to convince in comparison. The – admittedly substantial – yearly bonuses, and claps on the back had never come close to making up for everything he had done for the company and they knew it. They also knew he stayed at Slytherin because he loved it and that he could so easily jump ship if that love was to subside. In their business he was infamous; he had a reputation for being a merciless in his dealings yet charmed in his choices. A conjurer they called him, a magician. So when he had floated the idea of starting a label in New York, a sort of sister label to Slytherin, he really had only to go through the motions to get it approved, they were more than happy to give him this challenge if only to keep him. In fact over the years the idea of him moving up from A&R to heading his own label had been raised before but he had always shot it down. He had been happy in A&R and could never think of leaving Slytherin. Now though, he had to admit, the prospect was exciting if a little daunting. If he was being honest he had just been going through the motions, been ready for another challenge years ago, but had been so loath to disturb anything, to upset his carefully curated life. Where was that kid who had joined a gang at 17, who had run away with a rock band, who had waltzed into a record label in trainers and told them they could either give him a job or watch him put them out of business, then risen to become their youngest department head within five years? Where had that kid been these past few years?

He’s not naive, he knows it’s more the fact that his bosses have nothing to lose than any real faith on their part, if he fails it’s all on him, he’ll be blamed, he’ll be the one with his reputation in tatters, but this doesn’t really bother him. If he’s not up to the task he’d rather find out than not.

But Lucius. That had been another story. If he had thought ending their personal dalliance had been almost mythic in it’s simplicity, changing their professional one had been a month long tunnel through shit using only his tongue as a shovel. He doesn’t blame him, not really, even he had had trouble with the idea. He had even found himself at times wishing he would be stymied at one turn or another if only so he didn’t have to go through what would be the inevitable outcome – facing a future without Lucius’ infuriating drawl that belittled you as it provoked, his self congratulatory superiority, his irritating and absurdist pomposity. Of course it wasn’t as if he enjoyed being around him or even liked him and he’d had his dick in his mouth too many times to call him family but he supposed it approached something like that if nothing else. It will be the same as ever, he tells him, I’ll just be a Skype call away. He almost believes it.

At first he doesn’t tell Black for fear it will fall through then he can’t figure out how to bring it up so he just decides to do it in person. He has to visit anyway to look at real estate and meet with his new lawyer. Black will probably be mad, it’s probably one of those things he’s supposed to communicate more about. Oh well he’s getting better at that over all, he even told Black he loved him, several times actually, he’s said it several times and he’s very good at The Conditions, so good in fact that Sirius had said to him _that’s probably enough conditions now babe, I get it, I’ll be your boyfriend now ok?_ And he had said _Yes, agreed_ and had thought then that’s basically a verbal contract and Sirius had said _very good though sweetheart, I’m very proud of you_. So he can’t say he’s not trying. Also Black will be mad when he finds out who his lawyer is, Sirius’s arrogant silver headed ex, though maybe he never has to know.

“You have a lot of bags,” Sirius correctly observes when he arrives, eyeing him. He’d brought some of his things in anticipation of Black thinking this a good idea. It had seemed economical. Though now he’s here it seems presumptuous and borderline creepy.

“Hm.”

“Why? – I mean put the fucking things down so I can kiss you – yes that’s it, right.” His kiss is sweet and hot and perfect. Why? He wants to say. Because of your mouth, and the smell of your skin. “Why so many bags beautiful?”

“Ah. How adverse would you be to me, ah, moving. Here. To live.” He says keenly aware suddenly that if there was a right way to do this, this is not it. “With you.” He adds.

“You idiot, are you serious?”

“Apparently so.”

Sirius studies him and then a slow smile spreads over his face. “You can be so sweet sometimes you know that?”

No he did not know that.

“Look at you surprising me.”

“It’s good?”

“Yes, it’s good.” He drapes his arms around his shoulders. “Very. Fucking. Good.” Sirius says punctuating his words with kisses. Severus’s hands wrap around him of their own accord and meet skin, it’s a shock, touching his skin again after so long is a shock and it’s also the most wonderful thing to happen to him in recent memory. His skin is warm against his hands and he slides them up and under his t-shirt greedily. He’d once read some terrible think piece on the wonder in the ordinary minutiae of everyday life and he’d thought it at the time maudlin rubbish. But standing here holding him like this, the soft warmth of his skin, the faint beat of his heart against his fingertips, seems suddenly shimmeringly resonant, a beautiful tiny miracle and he wonders if Black would let him do this everyday. I want to live here in the space between your skin and your clothes he would say if that were a thing one could reasonably ask for.

“What’s going on?” Black asks, “Have you had a stroke?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Oh God you’re not sick are you? Baby what’s wrong?”

“No Black for the love of – is it so hard to believe I would want to be with you? I’d thought I’d made myself clear – have you not been listening to me?”

“Relax, I just meant you love that fucking job is all. I assumed the only way you’d leave it was in a coffin. I don’t understand it, but far be it for me to judge. I’ve liked worse things, as we both know.” Sirius says swiping his lips along his jaw, it’s like they’re having one conversation and their bodies are having another.

“Oh well, I’ve fixed that. I’d be bringing work with me. That’s the other thing.”

“Ok.”

“I’m starting a label here, or should I say attempting to. I would still be affiliated with Slytherin, so in a sense it will be much the same as always.”

“Attempting to? I wouldn’t have thought that word was in your vocabulary. More like you’ll half kill yourself to make it work. Am I right?”

“That’s probably more accurate. You’ll hardly see me. It will be hard for us. You can still say no at this point.”

“Can I?”

“Absolutely you can.”

“What would you do if I did?”

“Whatever you wanted me to I suppose.”

Sirius kisses his neck again, along his jawline, which makes him a bit hard despite their conversation. “I forgot about those devastating throwaway declarations of yours.” Sirius says, “I think they might be the reason you ruined me for anyone else actually. You’ll do anything I want you to do is that it?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good, that’s good. Luckily I want you right here like this, where you belong. So you’ll have to stay. Obviously. That’s an easy one beautiful, you could have figured that one out for yourself.”

Severus lets out a small inward sigh of relief. That was the answer he’d thought it would be but Sirius had always confused him so he could never be too sure.

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty because you sure are simple.” Sirius tells him and he rolls his eyes, Sirius had always told him he was good looking which was one of the reasons he found him so confusing.

He tells him about Draco, about how it was his idea and how he wants to join them eventually. “Though I think I know why he wants that.” He adds darkly. He still wasn’t quite sure if _that_ was a good idea, nor what Black had made of the whole thing.

“What’s this kid like then?” Black asks, “How much trouble is Harry in?”

“He’s a little asshole and a fair amount. Don’t worry I’m probably going to kill him myself, I haven’t decided yet.”

“You were a little asshole,” Sirius breathes against his neck, pushing him back against the breakfast bar he licks a wet open mouthed kiss onto the soft skin there. “And I’m still not sure if you’re any good for me.”

Severus breathes out and arches into him. “ _Yes_.” But he’s referring to the mouth at his neck, the tongue that’s pressing to his pulse point, the teeth that scrape.

“Severus.”

“Yes.”

“I want you.”

“Mm. So I surmised.”

“I don’t think I can wait any longer. How long’s it been since we’ve done this?”

“In person? Ten years… and some months.”

“Far too long.” Sirius says and kisses him.

Severus pulls away after a minute. “Not here.”

“No, of course. You’re so hot.” Sirius says, grinding up against him and sucking his neck again. “Babe I kinda want to fuck you here though.” He says after a bit.

“No.”

“Okay.” Sirius takes his hand and presses it up against the hard outline of his cock, then he bites and sucks at Severus’s bottom lip. Severus thinks this is not actually fair, how is he to be expected to be the reasonable one with a boyfriend as hot and as slutty as this? When Sirius finally leaves off his mouth Severus lip feels swollen, and his hands seem to have unbuttoned Sirius’s fly of their own accord. “Fuck – ok – just fucking quick ok? Just _fuck_ – ok here then.” He says.

“You’re swearing a lot.”

“ _Sirius._ ”

“Sorry. I’ll be quick. Can I rim you? No. That’s a no then – shit – did you hear that?”

Severus pushes him away from him hard and tries to smooth his hair back into place. Sirius skids comically across the floor. “Sev I was kidding!”

“You’re an awful overgrown child and I hate you. I’m taking my bags up to your room. You may follow if you think you can behave.” All this planning may be for moot – Sirius was going to give him a heart attack he was sure of it. 

* * *

 

Sirius locks the front door before following him up and he notices his hand is shaking. He thinks he’ll lick him out first then fuck him. Then he thinks maybe he would rather come with his face in his ass, Severus had always thought that tedious but he thinks maybe he can convince him; he’d suck him after, he’d make it good for him. “I’ll let you come on my face,” he thinks of telling him, and he already knows he’s going to sound whiny and annoying when he does so. Except that when he gets upstairs he sees him sitting on his bed with his shirt off all his breath goes out of him and he forgets everything he’d planned. “Look at you,” He breathes. He’s so porcelain white, he’s almost translucent. Sirius pictures the red welts that his nails and his teeth will leave across his chest. They’ll look beautiful, he knows this, knows they’ll match perfectly with the dusky pink of his nipples and the flushed red that will appear high upon his cheeks. “You’re in so much trouble,” He tells him and he bends down and cards his hand into his hair and pulls his head back not so gently so he can kiss him hard and dirty until they end up making out desperately on his bed with him trying to catch his breath and drag the rest of Sev’s clothes off without leaving off his mouth. Somehow they get all their clothes off and he’s grinding into Severus hard, groaning at the feeling of their cocks rubbing together and he feels like an awkward teenager having his first sexual experience though he’s vaguely aware that he’s a grown man of some experience and he could probably do better than clumsily humping Severus into the mattress. “Sirius, you can either fuck me now or have me come all over you in about four seconds.” Severus says breathlessly. “Your choice.” And he says, “Alright then,” though he’s about three seconds away himself and he seriously doubts his ability to do so successfully. “Stay there.”

He hastily slicks himself up and levers himself over Severus, pausing to admire the way he looks -- flushed and blotchy and shiny with sweat. Delicious. Severus pushes his hips up impatiently and says “Come on, stop fucking around.” Had he forgot how impossible he could get during sex? How bossy, how impatient, how _maddening_? Perhaps he’d just forgotten his own reaction to it, how it shot through him like a fire bolt, made him want to bite and scratch and punish, made him want to worship, be his fucking slave.

He grasps himself and nudges in, just the head, then has to stop to calm himself. “Christ.” He says. Real impressive Sirius, he thinks, he’ll be rethinking his decision to take you back right about now.

But Severus, the little weirdo that he is says, “Fuck. Fuck yes, that’s so good. Just like that. _Yes_.” So he pushes in more, which makes Severus cry out.

“Christ.” Sirius repeats, pulling out then pushing in again and panting against Severus’s neck. “Yes? Yes?”

“ _Uh_. Yes. _God yes_. Black I’m going to come – ah quite fucking imminently, just keep on – just keep fucking me, for fuck’s sake don’t stop.” So he does, grunting with the effort, keeps fucking him as Severus pants and whimpers, keeps fucking him as Severus’s hands fist into the sheets and he screws up his face and cries out, painting his own chest with his come. And God, he’s so fucking beautiful like that, and he’s just an ex-junkie piece of shit who’s managed to trick him into fucking with him again. “I’m no good for you,” he says, although he had really wanted to keep that quiet, as though by not saying it Severus might not realise. “You’re too fucking good for me. You deserve so much better you always have.”

“But you’re the only thing I want.” Severus tells him and Sirius comes and comes, comes like he hasn’t come in 10 years and some months, comes hard like a train, sharp like whiskey and sweet and aching like a minor chord, one hand in Severus hair grabbing so hard as to leave a bruise and his cock deep inside him. After he has to sort of pry his hand from Severus’ head and he sees him wince but then he smirks up at him condescendingly like he thinks he’s won at something so he thinks it’s ok.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! I hope you enjoy this strange little epilogue I've tagged on the end here. A massive thank you to those who read, left kudos, and commented, you are, quite certainly, the freakin' best!

In the early naughties there was no one in rock more infamous, more desired than Sirius Black, the wild and wildly handsome front man of Brit post punk darlings Gryffindor. Yet Gryffindor’s certain ascent to rock royalty was cut short in truly heartbreaking circumstance with the murder of it’s talented and far too young lead guitarist James Potter. Black’s arrest and incarceration on narcotics charges followed shortly after. Since then Black has remained out of the public eye, one imagines through design rather than necessity, though idle he has not been; he’s played almost weekly gigs in and around his adopted home of New York for many years polishing his chops until last year rewarding an unsuspecting public with his first solo album. The album received almost unanimous critical acclaim too, with _Rolling Stone_ calling it “well-crafted, thoughtful and alluring” and plenty others besides celebrating the return of Black’s signature strong and gritty vocal style. There is no doubt that Black’s return to the scene is a welcome one.

Black is a hard man to categorise. He was born into money and privilege, but “wasn’t very good at it” leaving his family home and his posh London public school at 16 and never looking back. At age 24 he married his decidedly male band manager despite having a public reputation as something of a laddish womaniser. He is by his own admission impulsive and easily distracted but is an astute business man, owning three successful New York City bars. He’s been married twice now but both times to the same person.

I caught up with Black fresh from a gruelling four month tour of the U.S. in his home in Brooklyn which he shares with his husband, music industry powerhouse Severus Snape, his teenaged Godson, and a bulldog named Otis. Black is wry, charming, and slightly cheeky and I can’t help but like him. At one point Black takes a call (“Hello darling, I was just thinking about you – yes I was! – Yes I fucking was!”), after he hangs up he shoots me a contrite and dimply grin and apologises profusely in the delightfully clipped English vowels he’s kept despite 10 years away from his native country and I’m rather enamoured. I get the feeling that disarming smile has got him both into, and out of trouble many times over.

By Lee Jordon.

_Lee Jordan: Congratulations on getting married last year._

Sirius Black: Thanks darlin’.

_LJ: I get a sense that there was less public scrutiny this time around._

SB: Yeah you could say that. Two old dudes getting hitched really isn’t all that interesting anymore. Thank Christ.

_LJ: When I was researching for this interview I came across this picture of the two of you which I thought was really sweet. Can I show you?_

SB: Sweet? That doesn’t sound like us but all right go on then.

 _LJ:_ [ _I show him a picture on my phone of the couple in formal get up, Black is grinning and saying something to Snape who is laughing. They look close, conspiratorial, in a world of their own._ ]

SB: That’s my man. He looks very handsome. Where was that, AMA’s?

_LJ: Yeah._

SB: I haven’t seen that one. We look happy, which is strange because Severus hates awards shows. Hates being photographed.

_LJ: Whereas you…_

SB: Whereas I am a shameless attention whore, as my husband would tell you.

_LJ: Not a bad trait for a rock star._

SB: Thank you, my point exactly. I’ll tell him you said that.

_LJ: No please don’t. Tell him I agree with him completely._

SB: You’ve met him?

_LJ: Yeah, he’s a very intimidating man._

SB: [ _Laughs_ ]. Yes that’s him!

_LJ: You seem very much in love._

SB: In the photo?

_LJ: Now when you’re speaking about him._

SB: Oh god, am I that obvious? [ _laughs_ ]. Yeah I am, we’re very happy.

_LJ: I feel like I’ve got to ask you what your secret is._

SB: Oh please don’t. You don’t want to be like us, we’re like 50 percent sex, 50 percent bickering. I’m the last person that should be giving advice man. I have no idea why we work but we do.

 

“Sirius you can’t say that.”

“What? Who cares? You are such a prude.”

“I am not a prude. I would just have rather not have had to respond to that statement every time I am interviewed for the rest of my life. Every time I have a bloody conversation in the next three months I suspect. Nice work, this is why I hate you. Do you see now why I say that?”

“You’re boring. You bore me.”

“Spare me you overgrown child.”

“Keep reading.”

“I am, shut up.”

 

_LJ: That’s quite impressive for two people who have known each other for as long as you have._

SB: Is that impressive? That’s good.

_LJ: You and Severus famously married in 2002 then even more famously divorced a year later. Can you speak a bit about that?_

SB: We had been together for years before we decided to get married, it seemed like a good idea at the time, we were probably trying to fix something but at the same time we loved each other a lot, it came from a good place. We were pretty naïve, we didn’t expect the kind of media attention we got, which seems silly now I guess. On the one hand we were these role models but then we had this whole other bunch of people telling us we were going to hell. It was all very strange. The other probably more truthful explanation is that it’s quite hard to be married to a junkie.

_LJ: You’re speaking of your drug problem?_

SB: I’m speaking of my drug problem, yes. Sustaining any kind of relationship is very hard when you’re in that. It’s a very selfish way of living, you will never not hurt people to get what you want. It doesn’t matter who it is.

_LJ: How do you feel about drugs now?_

SB: It might seem strange considering the sheer havoc they played with my life but I don’t regret the experience. Not really. Everything I’ve done has made me who I am now. Though that period of my life is well and truly over and I’m glad of it.

_LJ: What’s your life like now? Has it slowed down?_

SB: It has. I’m busy but I’m more selective now about what I give my time to. If we have any free time now it’s usually spent at home together with our dog. I try to make time for us to do that as often as humanly possible. Severus is a workaholic so for him it’s a struggle but he’s getting better at it. I just realised I made that sound like he doesn’t like spending time with me. For the record he does, I asked him.

_LJ: It always pays to ask._

SB: It always pays to ask.

_LJ: Speaking of being busy you’ve just finished a tour of the states and you’re leaving next month on your European tour. How do you feel about touring, do you like it or is it just a necessary part of the game you’re in?_

SB: I love it. Love it. I love performing because I’m at heart a massive show off and touring with a band again has been the absolute best. Plus I get to meet all these people and see all these amazing places, it’s like, how lucky am I you know? Fucking wild. The only thing I don’t like is being away from my husband and our dog, and Harry. I’m not very good with that so Severus travels with me as much as he can, or Harry will come and stay, or Remus [ _Lupin, Gryffindor bassist_ ]. They look after me. I realise that makes me sound like a child but that’s because I very much am!

_LJ: I think that’s quite lovely. Harry is your Godson Harry Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter?_

SB: Yeah.

_LJ: Can you speak about your relationship with the Potters and how you’ve coped with their loss? If you’d rather not…_

SB: No it’s fine, I like talking about them. That was really not the case for the longest time but now I talk about them and it makes me happy. That’s probably because of Harry. We talk about James and Lily all the time, which is really lovely and healthy I think, I went for so many years trying to forget what happened so now I try to talk about them as much as possible. I want Harry to know it’s ok to talk about them, and that despite everything there’s a lot of happy memories, so many more happy ones than sad ones. Of course I fucking miss them but I’ve realised that missing them doesn’t have to always mean being sad or regretful.

_LJ: What’s your relationship with Harry like?_

SB: He’s like the light of my life, I’m obsessed with him, he’s going to hate me saying that. He’s just this really cool, kind, generous kid. I could talk about him all day. He’s a lot like his parents, but also he’s completely his own person, which is so amazing and wonderful to me. People don’t really prepare you for how much your kid is going to just end up being this completely unique entity you know? Like he’ll do something and I’ll be like that’s noone I know, it’s not James or Lily, or me or Severus, it’s all him. It’s completely wild. I have no idea why I find that so amazing.

_LJ: No I get it, it’s like you sort of expect them to be these little facsimiles and when they’re not it’s the best thing ever._

SB: Exactly!

_LJ: Let’s talk about the music._

SB: Yeah man, shoot.

_LJ: Your solo stuff is a departure from your Gryffindor days, quieter, stiller, more considered. But you’ve also kept a kind of youthful energy that I really love. What influenced this change or do you see it as just a natural progression?_

SB: Yeah, in some ways definitely it’s a byproduct of aging, of getting to a certain age and calming down a bit, becoming a bit less angry with life in general. I think a lot of our early music was motivated by anger and aggression at least to some degree. But the music I found myself writing after I left the UK was just me trying to figure out the way my life had turned out. And it came out quieter, less look at me, I think. And in a sense that stillness was something I had to learn, in jail, I had never really been forced to be still before and that just came out in the music that I wrote after. That I continue to write, at least in part. I’m glad you mentioned energy because at the same time I’m still the same person as I always was, I’m easily bored and hyperactive, I’m still bouncing off the walls most of the time, so I think first and foremost that’s going to always come through in my music. I would hate it if it didn’t because it would mean I wasn’t being myself.

_LJ: You’ve given me a good segue to what I wanted to ask you next because I definitely think that comes across when you are onstage. You’re very performative; I don’t mean that in a negative sense at all, you’re just this very engaging and dynamic presence. Is that where you think it comes from, an overabundance of energy?_

SB: Oh gosh yes probably. I’m awful aren’t I? An awful show off. I think that tells you something about my personality unfortunately.

_LJ: I have to say I imagine you get lots of people, men and women, throwing themselves at you. Do you?_

SB: Ugh, I have to really minimise that as much as I can, when I was younger I really bought into the whole thing and that didn’t turn out so well. That kind of thing can really destroy your ability to have a functional relationship, it’s so hard on the person you’re with. And that’s my primary concern, if all this was damaging my relationship in any way I would do something else.

_LJ: You would?_

SB: Yes I would, without regret.

_LJ: Severus is a lucky man._

SB: Oh no, no no, he’s not.

 

“Did you think you would impress me with that sentimental rubbish?”

“Well I thought at the very least it might earn me a blow job.”

“You’re awful.”

“You love me anyway.”

“We’ll see, I haven’t finished yet.”

 

_LJ: You recently signed with Salazar Records, which is your husband’s label. Did you have any reservations about that going in?_

SB: Certainly. I almost didn’t. But there’s no one I trust more so I think we both knew it just made sense. And in a very real way my success has always been his success, his belief in me was what drove me back in our Gryffindor days, it was always a joint project so not doing this together would have felt wrong. Also I know how good he is at his job so any reservations I had weren’t to do with how successful it would be.

_LJ: What are you working on right now?_

SB: These days I’m all about collaborating man. Right now I’m in the studio working on something with Kirley Duke [ _lead guitarist, Weird Sisters_ ], who is one of the most intimidatingly talented musicians I’ve ever worked with. After that there might be something coming up that involves an electronic duo that you might have heard of. But I’m not allowed to talk about that.

_LJ: Damn, I can’t wait. I hope it’s who I think it is. I loved your collaboration with Jarvis Cocker._

SB: Oh thank you, that’s about the kindest thing you could say to me. Anyone who knows me will know I’ve been such a big fanboy of his forever so that was like a dream come true and truthfully probably the opposite for Jarvis, I followed him around like an excited puppy the whole time, I was actually incredibly annoying. Jarvis, if you’re reading this I’m sorry, it’s only because I love you.

_LJ: Sirius, it’s been a real pleasure, I hope we can do this again someday. Perhaps after your second album drops?_

SB: [ _Laughs_ ] Absolutely my friend, it’s as date.

 

FOR MORE INFORMATION ON SIRIUS BLACK AND HIS UPCOMING TOUR, VISIT **HIS WEBSITE**.

 

“Oh God I spent most of that interview mooning over you. How embarrassing.”

“Quite. Though you came across as marginally more intelligent than you usually appear. Well done.”

“Oh,” Sirius says in an unnatural falsetto. “How kind of you to say so Sir. Such high praise.”

Severus knows he’s making fun of him but his cock stirs when Sirius calls him Sir all the same. Actually he’s been a little turned on since he’d seen those photos of Sirius pouting and looking bored on the steps outside their new house, a Brooklyn brownstone, wearing a black kilt-like skirt, chunky boots and nothing else. He’s never had any idea how Black could make such ridiculous things look so sexy.

“I’m serious, you’re actually very good at this. You give away just enough information to be tantalising but not enough to, well, seriously embarrass your husband.”

“You’ve forgotten my ‘sex and bickering’ remark already?”

“Yes well that was unfortunate but, God help me I can’t believe I’m saying this, it made for good copy.”

“And that makes you money right?” Sirius says good naturedly, he’s already bored of talking about this Severus can tell.

“And that makes me money, yes very good sweetheart. Did you have a good show?”

“Pretty good. They had those sweets I like in the dressing room.”

“Oh? That’s good. I see this suite is better than that last one. That’s something at least.” Last time he had joined Sirius on tour had been a complete shemozzle, some Mensa member had booked them into a midrate hotel with a room that’s defining feature had been a pink and grey line drawing of a swan in a peach frame above the TV, (Sirius had insisted he loved it and then Severus had got worried that it would somehow turn up in their house one day) and after Severus had told his team you’re all lucky I hired you before I found out how incompetent you are. He and Sirius had stayed in plenty like that over the years, and plenty more much worse, but he hated the thought of Sirius alone on the other side of the world in a sad hotel room, maybe remembering all those times he had been alone and high in rooms such as these, maybe remembering that time after they had broke up when Severus had found him in one and waited with him while the ambulance came, and when he had bought him home the next day Sirius had told him he never wanted to see him again so like an idiot he had stayed away. This one was acceptable, minimalist modern with a good view from the balcony off their bedroom, and he was happy to see they had listened to him.

“That one wasn’t that bad, you’re just a snob.” Sirius says as he cuddles closer to him on the bed.

Severus pulls him in to his arms. “I’ve earned my right to be.” He says.

“How’s my baby?”

“Otis is fine, getting spoiled by Harry as we speak I’d say.”

“Does he miss me?”

“Desperately. We both do.”

“Oh.”

“Only four weeks to go love.”

“Yes.”

“Harry wants to come and stay when you’re in Prague.”

“Oh good, yes, of course.”

“He wants to bring Draco.”

“Oh. Ok. That’s not unexpected. Of course he would. But we’d need separate suites. If I heard them doing anything I would have to murder the little bastard.”

“Yes of course. I must say you’re being very good about it.”

“Well I have to be don’t I? And of course I was being a massive hypocrite considering our history and all that, as Harry has reminded me ad nauseam.”

“Well that’s our prerogative.”

“Mmm but not the best way to sustain a relationship with a 19 year old boy perhaps.”

“Do you really want to talk about this right now?” Severus asks, he wants to say that as parents they can protect him as they see fit, but he also really doesn’t want to argue after being away from him for so long.

“No. Do you want me to call you Sir again?”

It was unnerving how easily Sirius could read him, unnerving and exciting. Still. “You should know I do.” Severus says.

After, when Sirius goes into the bathroom to clean up, Severus grabs the pack of cigarettes he finds on the side table, pulls on one of the hotel robes and goes out to the balcony. The air is warm and fragrant despite the time of night and they are up high enough for a soft breeze play across his face. He lights a cigarette then taps out another and lights it with the first as Sirius ambles out on to the patio completely naked.

“You should put a robe on. Do we need to have the ‘everyone has a camera now’ conversation?” He says as he passes him the smoke.

“Leave me alone, I’m a rock star alone in a foreign city, I don’t party, I don’t do drugs, I leave the freaking TV inside where it belongs, leave me this one simple pleasure of walking around naked after banging some guy I picked up after a show, please.”

“Oh did you want to play it like that? You never said.” Severus says.

“No. Maybe later though.” Sirius replies distractedly. “Severus?”

“Yes my baby?”

“We’re happy aren’t we? I wasn’t lying when I said that was I?”

Severus puts his cigarette out on the glass counter top of the patio table. He walks over to Sirius and puts his arms around his waist. “My darling I’ve never been so happy in my life. We’re deliriously happy, we’re so happy it should be illegal. This is perfect, you are perfect, all of this, the hotels, the touring all of it. Even when we don’t see each other for weeks on end because at the end of it I get to see you and hold you and it’s the sweetest and best thing that I can think of. Yes my light, we’re happy. Oh jeez – you’re crying again.”

“Sorry. It must be getting older, I cry all the time these days.”

“You silly old fool.” Severus says. “Thank you for saying you would give this up for me.”

“You liked that?”

“I liked that. Very much.”

“It’s absolutely true.”

“I know love. You know the same goes for me as well don’t you?”

“I suppose I did.”

“Well it does. I would destroy the world for you, the entire planet and everyone on it.”

“That’s a bit much Sev.” Sirius says, though he’s crying even more.

“Maybe but it’s true. I won’t pretend it’s not.”

“It’s ok. I like having you to protect me.”

Good, Severus thinks, because I always will, as long as my heart still beats.

Sirius wipes under his eyes with the side of his palm and sniffs. “Wanna order room service?” He asks him.

“Yes but I get to choose and you have to put a robe on before they get here.”

“Fine. As long as it’s chips. And burgers. I’m bloody famished.” Sirius says and swans back into their apartment, prince-like.

Severus rolls his eyes but heads for the phone and places the order, making sure he orders extra fries for Sirius or he would steal all his. _Milkshake_ Sirius mouths at him so he adds that too, chocolate, extra icecream, of course.

When he hangs up Sirius claps his hands together in delight and says, “I think hearing you order terrible greasy room service is my all time favourite thing ever. You make it sound like Shakespeare, it’s beautiful.” And Severus pitches a bed cushion at his head and Sirius just keeps on laughing.

* * *

 

Sirius goes out onto the balcony and sits down next to Severus on the cold cement, he’s brought a blanket and he throws it over both of them. It had been a long night. Earlier Gryffindor had played to a sell-out crowd then after he and Sev had started fighting again and somewhere in the middle Sirius had left, trawled some bars, tried to erase the evening in pretty faces and whiskey but he had just felt sad and exhausted. He really didn’t understand a fucking word of German, and truthfully, he had missed him as he always did after the initial sting of anger had worn off and he had taken the long walk back to the hotel. The air had been biting and by the time he got back he had felt as sober as he usually pretended he was. He found him outside pretty much where he had left him, if there was once a time when Severus would have gone looking for him, if not at least rung, that time was long past.

“Black, how long do you think this can last?” Severus asks him quietly, looking out at the neon lit restaurant below. Down there people would be laughing, sharing stories, celebrating, commiserating. Fighting. Making up. Maybe falling in love.

“How about forever?” Sirius answers, surprising himself.

“I’m being serious. Do you like this? Does it still make you happy?”

“So am I. I’ve never been more serious. Let’s get married.”

Severus scoffs. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. We can’t get married Sirius.”

“Why not? Are you not sure of me? I’m sure of you, you’re my everything Sev.”

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“Yes it is! That’s the only reason!”

Severus takes a sip of his drink, something clear in a glass tumbler that Sirius had at first taken for water but by the way he sipped at it he changes his mind. “No.” He says, shaking his head. “It would never work.”

“Why not?” Sirius asks. “You don’t think I can do it? Because I can sure as shit fuck only you for the rest of my life, you better believe that.”

“That’s not all there is – “

“What, you don’t think I’d love you forever? Until I drew my dying breath? Just watch me. Do you hear me Snape? Just you fucking watch me.”

“This is crazy. It’s not even legal.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Severus quirks his lip up at him. “Trust you to have absolutely no regard for the law even in something like this.”

“Is that a no then? Was it the delivery? Because I can do better.”

“No you fool, it’s a yes. Of course it’s a yes. I’ll marry you a thousand times. I’ll marry you every day of my life.” And Severus kisses him and he tastes of gin and he most likely tastes of whiskey. “You stupid fool, do you know what you’re getting us into?”

“No.” Sirius says. “Doesn’t that make it better?”

Severus just laughs and shakes his head. "How did I end up with you?" He says.

“I fucking love you kid.” He tells him.

“I fucking love you too Black. Forever then?”

“Oh hell yes.” Sirius says.


End file.
